Tell Me Your Scary Stories


So I know I promised a video about my makeup routine on Wednesday but I was having some technical difficulties resulting in having to re-film the whole ordeal and since lighting isn’t necessarily great at 5am in Michigan I’m waiting until the weekend to re-do it and I’ll be posting it on Monday. See, this is why I shouldn’t promise things I can’t deliver.

But it’s OK, I’m making up for it by telling you some scary stories to kick off your halloween. I enjoy reading and hearing about scary stories. Funny thing is though I HATE watching scary movies. I can’t do it. I don’t sleep for weeks. I avoid the dark. I’m a wuss. But to indulge in my tales of other worldly encounters I will tell you my stories and then I want to hear yours. So read on at your own risk and then comment any scary stories you have or ones that have been handed down to you!

Frozen in fear

So a few years ago I had decided to go on a study abroad to Scotland. The program housed us in a 4 bedroom flat. Everyone had their own room and bathroom and shared a kitchen. The first night I arrived I met my roommates. The guys decided to go out to the bars that night but I and the other girl in our flat decided to stay in, both exhausted from our flights. In the middle of the night I woke up to indecipherable whispering outside of my door. I couldn’t remember if I had locked my door and was worried that the guys were mistaking my door with theirs since my door was the first room once you walked into the flat. I tried to get up to lock the door but my body was frozen in bed. I couldn’t move my arms or legs to push myself off the bed, I even tried turning my head to face the door since I had fallen asleep facing the opposite end but couldn’t turn my head either. I laid there in panic as I tried to get up off the bed. Finally the whispering stopped and I was able to get up. I immediately walked into the hallway. Nobody was there, I looked in the living room and it was also empty, I looked under the doors of each bedroom to see if there was any light and all the rooms were dark. There was no more noise. I walked back to my room, locked the door and looked at the clock it was 4am. The next morning I asked the guy roommates what time they had gotten back, they both said about 2am. I told them my story and they just said that was crazy but that they weren’t up that late. I called my mom that afternoon to let her know that I had arrived safely and told her what happened to me the night before. She said if that happened again pray that the blood of Christ protect me and that nothing can harm me. She had a few “encounters” and thought I may have experienced one the night before. It didn’t happen again, but on the last day of the trip our professors took us to an old church. They told us to look up and in the stone it appeared like a screaming face had been imprinted on the stone. The professors told us that on the spot that we were standing a man had been burned for becoming a Lutheran. The legend was that as he was burning, the look on his face got imprinted on the building. It gave me chills down my spine as I realized that there were probably a lot more who were burned or killed throughout the Old Catholic town for refuting Catholicism. Some people I’ve told think that what I experienced was sleep paralysis but it never happened before and it never happened since. I’m still convinced a poor soul (or demonic soul) was in the room the first night I stayed in the flat.

Chills yet? No? Well the next two stories should. They aren’t actually my stories but my mom’s. She’s told them enough times that I’m sure it’ll become folklore soon enough. It’s definitely a bone chiller.

Pirul Que No Sirve Ni Pa’ Arder

I was 9 years old. I was staying at my older sister’s house and she always had a habit of leaving kids alone in the house. I don’t know why she did it but she did. She lived away from everyone else, The closest house was about a mile away. It was near autumn and she asks me around 6pm “do you want tunas?” (the fruit not the fish) And I tell her I do. But she had my 2 year old niece and mentioned that she was asleep. She said “You can stay with her and I’ll take your sister (whose 7), but since you’re staying I need you to finish cooking the nixtamal” The kitchen and the bedroom were separate parts of the house like a house and an unattached garage. So I stayed in the kitchen cooking while my niece slept in the room. Both my sister’s left and a short while later it got dark out. The house was spooky. It was surrounded by the shade of trees. On the right of the house was a barrier of cactus and on the left was a wall of stone. The only path out of the house was straight ahead where directly in the path to leave the property was another cactus tree and a tall pirul tree. According to myth, Judas (you know the guy that betrayed Jesus) hung himself from a pirul tree. And it was under the tree that their dog was tied. You couldn’t see anything under the tree. It looked like a lion or wolf’s mouth. It was pitch black under the tree.  In those times we didn’t have electricity. When it got dark you needed to use candles to see or a lamp with petroleum. It was getting later and I was still in the kitchen cooking because there wasn’t any firewood so it was a very slow process. I was waiting for my sisters to get home or for my sister’s husband but no one came and it kept getting later and later or so I perceived it to. I was 9 years old so of course I was scared. All of a sudden I heard voices speaking and I got happy thinking it was my sister coming home and I could hear that the dog was happy that the family was home. All of a sudden the voices stopped. The dog then started whining and crying and started tugging on its leash like he was trying to escape. All of a sudden I got really scarred thinking that the dog heard or was seeing something. A lot of time passed and the dog wouldn’t stop whining. I didn’t dare look outside, my back was facing the exit and the kitchen didn’t have a door but I wouldn’t even turn around to look outside. I started trembling in fear and sweating. I passed out and when I woke up I started hearing the voices again. I started to pray, I knew that what I was hearing couldn’t be good. While I was praying I hear my niece wake up and start crying  whose in the room on the other side of the patio. I decided I had to get up to get her because she might get up and leave the house or she’ll also get scared. So I summon my courage and I sprint to the room. I felt like I was being watched and was deathly scared of slipping in the middle of the patio and that would be the end of me. My legs were shaking but somehow I made it to the room. I opened the door to the room and locked the door and barricaded it with everything I could. I held my niece and tried to keep her quiet. I felt that we were being spied on. As I was hugging and rocking her she fell back asleep. Something caught my eye, the room’s walls were vey tall but in the corner of the room near the ceiling there was a small hole. Through the hole I could see that someone was throwing still glowing cigarette butts into the room but they wouldn’t land on the floor. I resumed my praying again and finally decided to start looking for the radio. I set the volume to the lowest I could and turned it on to see what time it was. The radio said it was 11pm. I didn’t know why my sisters had taken so long. After I heard the radio say it was 11, I heard voices again. I didn’t believe it was my sisters since the last two times I heard voices it hadn’t been them. But I hear my sister’s laugh and I hear the dog sound excited for them to be home. One of them knocks on the room’s door and I open it, fuming. I didn’t say a word until my older sister and her husband went to the kitchen. With just my 7 year old sister in the room I snap, “where did you guys go?” She responded “We went to a neighbors house for supper”(Neighbors that live miles away). I decided that in the morning I would walk home to my house. It was over a 2 hour walk but I decided right then and there I wasn’t going to spend another night at the house. Luckily the next morning my Dad visited and I told him I wanted to go home with him. As we walked back home I told him what happened the night before. He said “I believe you, this area used to be like a rugged freeway but there were a lot of bandits and the bandits hanged 2 men in this tree right here not too long ago so they could rob them.” I never returned to that rancho and I never stayed with my sister while she lived there again.

Ok last one

It’s the Wolves…right?

There was a canyon we had to walk through to get to school. It took about 45 minutes to walk through it all, and you couldn’t climb it because it was too tall. Most of the day the path through the middle of the canyon was shaded, the only time that it was well lit was exactly in the middle of the day when the sun was directly overhead. We walked through there in the morning and then again after school so it was always dark. My sister and I at the time were about the same age 7 and 9. We got out of school at 2pm and would make it to the entrance of the canyon around 4 or 5. One day as we’re walking home my sister and I started hearing crying, hysterical crying from a woman. My sister ducked and just started shaking in fear and if I didn’t do anything she would have started to cry. So I started singing, singing as loud as I could so I couldn’t hear the crying and we could make it back home. It wasn’t the only time we heard the crying though, sometimes we heard the crying every day, sometimes we’d go a few days without hearing anything. But it always resumed. Every time my sister would say “Patty it’s starting again” And I would start to sing so that we could make it to school or home (whichever direction we were heading in). I asked neighbors and family if they ever heard anything and they all said that they never did. They told me it must have been a wolf or some other animal baying. But I knew what wolf’s and coyote’s sounded like, I knew what all the animals sounded like, this wasn’t that. We didn’t stop hearing it until we stopped going to school because we didn’t have to cross that path anymore. When I was an adolescent and moved out of the rancho and into the city I learned of the legend of La Llorona. I knew then that it wasn’t a legend at all.

Scary enough?  If that doesn’t do it just think about how politicians think facts are opinions and are debatable. Simply terrifying. Alright hit me with your stories. 1, 2, 3 GO!

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