20. It's not your fault.
I was 16, and it was very common for my friends and I to go camping in the mountains, bring weed, beer, acid, whatever. I was always a big fraidy cat when it came to getting messed up, so I usually abstained, parents warnings took to heart I guess.
This particular night most of my friends were tripping acid, while I was sipping a beer, enjoying the fire and whatnot, and a bunch of us girls decided to go off somewhere to pee.
We stumble off into the woods and end up walking for quite some time, one girl was searching for the perfect spot, and she was super high, but we all just went along. We finally come to a small clearing and decide to pee there. Everyone pees and we set off back to camp.
One of my friends hears a low moan coming from the other side of the clearing, tells us to shhh, but we don't hear it so we urge her to come on. She is intent on investigating, so I decide to go with her . It was really dark out. You could only see as far as the lanterns light hit, so we were off into the unknown.
Our light finally revealed a car. A brand new lookin Subaru, it was really sudden like, and kinda freaked us out so we scamper back to our friends screeching like lil 16/17 yo girls and set off back to our camp all freaked out.
We tell the boys about it when we get there and they convince us we had happened upon another camp site and make fun of us for freaking out.
Five years later, I am in nursing school and working as an admin asst in a labor and delivery hospital. I have made a really good friend at work and she and I hang out all the time. One night she comes over and we are drinking and she tells me her dad has been missing since ahe was in high school. She says he had tried to commit suicide a few times and her family figured that he succeeded, but no one ever found him. She secretly was hoping he just ran off to start a new life and maybe she would see him again someday.
Not very long after that, a man was found in a stolen subaru up on the mountain where we used to camp, he had been there for years, through every season, freezing to hot, there was a hose from the tail pipe to the window, the man had committed suicide.
It made the news, and one of the guys from high school called and reminded me of that night in the woods, the car was found not far from our usual spot, wasn't that nuts? That was what we saw.
At work, my friend got a call,from her mother, the guy in the car was her dad.
We heard him moaning. We saw the car. If we weren't such dumb shit little kids we could have done something. I watched my friend fall apart over it, but didn't tell her about my experience in the woods. I have always felt so bad.
21. Thank goodness he changed his mind.
When my uncle was four he visited his aunt's home for the summer. There were really no kids around that were his age so he mainly just rode his bike around the neighbourhood to amuse himself.
One day he rode a little too far and got lost, but luckily a car pulled over and told him that it was okay, he would take him back to his aunts house. So my uncle loaded his bike in the car and got in. The man started to drive, and my uncle, thinking it was one of his aunts friends, asked no questions.
It wasn't until they turned onto the highway that my uncle started to ask the man where they were going, that his aunt's house wasn't near the highway. The man didn't say anything to him and kept driving until suddenly he pulled over to the side of the road and seemed to think really hard on something. He then turned the car around and dropped my uncle off at the entrance to the neighbourhood. My uncle realized years later that this man had attempted to kidnap him and at the last minute changed his mind.
22. You don't forget a face like that.
The story takes place one July morning in 1982.
I was late for my job as a fry cook at a country club on Cape Cod. As I raced my jeep over back roads in a rural part of town, I came around a tight bend in heavy morning fog. And there, standing in the middle of the road, was a man. Pale, and sweaty, he was wearing only a pair of shorts and a backpack.
I saw him only for a split-second, before I swerved and went off the road. But I'll never forget the face. He stared straight ahead, looking me right in the eyes with a wide-eyed, maniacal look on his face. His mouth was open as if he was screaming, but there was no sound. I got out of the jeep and ran back looking to take a swing at the guy, but he was gone.
It wasn't until ten years later that I saw him again. On TV. His name is Hadden Clark and he's a serial killer. He's the man I saw that morning in Woods Hole. I have zero doubt about it.