Most read stories

After moving to a small town in southern Michigan I got a job as a cashier in the local store. After work I would walk home to my small house and order a small pizza. This was my routine for two weeks when things took a strange turn. I called in my usual order to the pizzeria when a new voice, one I hadn't heard before answer the phone and told me "The usual? No problem. I'll deliver it in less than five minutes."

My eyes are in a ferverous affair with the clock, and my focus is none the wiser. The police dispatcher is pleading for me to humor her inquiries, if for no reason other than to keep my consciousness afloat. It is so late, and today has been so challenging. Nevertheless, I’ll gratify her with my story, because I am really in no mood to tell it again later.

I cannot describe to you how I feel right now. What I’m experiencing is so detached from the normal, I’m almost convinced I’ve finally gone insane. Almost. My wife, Bea, died during childbirth. She was gorgeous, funny, intelligent – stubborn. A woman whose laugh was so loud, eating in restaurants was a challenge. A woman whose stare was so intense, it made my hands shake. I lost her as she gave birth to our daughter. Sam.

I've always loved the dark. It feels warm and welcoming. Like a mask, hiding all the stress and emotion that the daylight shows so explicitly and replacing them with a sensuous feeling. The dark reveals your true nature and abolishes the facade you play during the daytime. Yes. The dark is good. You can be yourself in the dark and not feel judged or threatened all the while by being yourself.

In rural southern Illinois a toy company began selling “realistic” baby dolls to expectant mothers. But apparently after the mother had her child the toy baby would start crying. Eventually the “rocking motion” advertised to calm it down wouldn’t work, and you couldn’t get it to stop without shaking it.

I was always afraid of the lunch lady when I was a kid.  I don't know why; maybe it was the toxic stench of her breath, or the dead look in her eyes, or the unkempt hairs dangling off her chin.  No matter what the reason was, my palms grew sweaty and my heart pounded every time I passed her in the lunch line.  I never felt quite at ease until I had left the cafeteria, and even then I still was worried I would catch sight of her in the hallway between classes.

[POST #1] Hello all. Today I went on an interesting trip. It took me a while to save up for the plane tickets, but it was worth it. Before I get into too much detail, I should introduce myself. Well, not really, I'm very paranoid when it comes to the internet, and I won't disclose my real name, so if you want to speak to me, just call me Delmar. I don't know what’s about that word, but I've been digging it lately.

I don’t know why so many of these things have roots in childhood. It seems like a bad cliché at this point. “When I was a kid”, there was this strange event… that odd creature… or the other thing that made me do something-or-other. Yeah. I don’t know WHY so many start like that. For me, I can’t explain this any other way than starting when I was little. It’s the crux of the entire thing, and I apologize in advance if it seems like I’m just following in the footsteps of others.

I was on a business trip about a year ago and I had to drive from Denver to LA. It was a long drive and I was growing tired of the road, so I stopped at the Holiday Inn hotel that was nearby. I walked up to the desk and rung the bell. Just seconds later, a man came out from the back room. "Hello sir, my name is John Shelby," the man said, "How can I assist you?" "I'm looking for a room," I replied, "Are there any available?"

Maybe it's late at night, but you can't sleep. You're bored, or you can't stop a bazillion thoughts from racing through your skull, or maybe you had too much coffee, or you're a little drunk. Whatever the case, I've been there, my friend. I know how it feels to sit there and realize that you're not really living right now. You're just existing. Surely there's something you can do, right?

“Bobby! Pay attention!” he heard his teacher say. He snapped out of his reverie and looked up to see her glaring at him. “Did you hear anything I’ve been saying?” she continued. Bobby shrugged his shoulders. Prior to being disrupted, he was daydreaming that he could freeze time, and before that he was imagining himself navigating the classroom if he was only 5 inches tall. The teacher continued to rant at him, just as they all did, then she placed him on detention Friday night after school.

You are home alone, and you hear on the news about the profile of a murderer who is on the loose. You look out the sliding glass doors to your backyard, and you notice a man standing out in the snow. He fits the profile of the murderer exactly, and he is smiling at you. You gulp, picking up the phone to your right and dialing 911. You look back out the glass as you press the phone to your ear, and notice he is much closer to you now.

Thursday morning. I awoke to the sounds of a siren blaring down the road. Great, another accident. The traffic was the last thing I wanted in the morning while going to work. Still, I had another hour before heading off, so I started my morning routine of taking a shower and brushing my teeth before heading downstairs for breakfast where I saw my son, Michael, eating cereal before breakfast. I grabbed a bagel and sat down on the couch, grabbing my iPad to read the news.

My end is near. I know this now. The thing my master says… It’s all too much at times. I heard my master saying something earlier… It sound like.. like he’s going to… replace me. It feels like, soon, he’s going to perform an operation on me... and I’m scared.

The pain ended quickly. I rose and tried to find my body. Probably lying mangled underneath the metallic wreck. Dying in a road accident is definitely the worse way to go. "So! Had a nice life?" asked a voice behind me. I turned around to find a woman smiling. Since she could see me I was pretty sure she was a soul like me. She giggled, "You are taking it pretty well. I am Cindy by the way." I spoke evenly," What happens now? Hell? Heaven?" She laughed louder. Before I could say something I…

Have you ever had one of those feelings that something was wrong? I don’t mean during the day either, but at night. I mean that sudden unprovoked feeling of dread that commands you to wake. Funny, it’s almost like nocturnal evil gives something off that your sleeping brain picks up on. I had one of those recently. It forced me up at 3 a.m. Normally when you have that feeling you’d lay still feigning sleep, or if you’re feeling adventurous you’d take a quick check around the house. After you…

Twice I saw the face in the window, pressed up against the surface, its icy breath fogging the cold glass. At first it appeared strange to me, the skin beneath its eyes drooping in ripples of flesh, exposing the red sensitive strata underneath.

So ur wid yo honi and ur makin out wen the phone ringz. U ansr it n da voice sayz "wut r u doin wit ma daughter?" u tel ur girl n she say "ma dad is ded." THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

This is the story of Kelly Tristan, a 23-year-old woman who lived alone in a small house at 2605 Pine Road in the small town of Fairview, Oregon. Her disappearance had gone largely unnoticed until nearby residents started to go missing without a trace. When the police went to investigate the area, all the homes of the missing people were completely empty, as if no one had lived in them for quite a long time. Here is what happened… Sunday October 31, 2004

Have you ever forgotten your phone? When did you realise you’d forgotten it? I’m guessing you didn’t just smack your forehead and exclaim ‘damn’ apropos of nothing. The realisation probably didn’t dawn on you spontaneously. More likely, you reached for your phone, pawing open your pocket or handbag, and were momentarily confused by it not being there. Then you did a mental restep of the morning’s events. Shit.