Shaken People Reveal The Most Disturbing Things That've Happened To Them

Shaken People Reveal The Most Disturbing Things That've Happened To Them

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There are just some things in life you can't unsee! Things that will haunt you in dreams or while you're awake. It could be a mind fabrication or worse... the reliving of a true life traumatic event. These are the stories of myth... of urban legend.

Redditor _not_Cross wondered Reddit, what is the most disturbing/unexplainable thing that has ever happened to you or someone you know? _Fasten your seat belts and turn the lights up. WAY UP!


This one isn't super exciting, just weird. My gramma was always irrationally afraid of dogs. She liked them, but they made her nervous because they were too messy and loud and unpredictable.

She would always tell us not to leave the door open on nice days - "Close that door! A big black dog might walk in". She had this fear that one day she'd turn around and there'd be a big black Labrador slobbering on her floors.

We always laughed at her oddly specific fear. And we knew everyone who lived nearby (and their dogs). The biggest, blackest dog within 1mile of her house was a yorkie, so her fear was unfounded.

Anyway, years later my Gramma passed away. My dad and I had the sad task of clearing out her house. Things were a bit stuffy, so we left the door open to the yard and got to work. After a while we both hear a strange noise and look up. It sounded like... panting?

We turned around and there was a big, black Labrador sitting in the middle of the kitchen. Just gazing up at us happily, drooling on Gramma's linoleum. Just like she always said would happen.

Uncontrollable laughter, crying just a little. Gave the dog stitches and escorted him back outside. My dad shut the door, looked upwards and said "sorry Ma! You were right." She just had to be proven right one last time


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When I was nineteen, I was walking home from the library and a cop pulled up to the curb, asking to see my ID. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I showed it to him.

After a moment of verifying that I was who my ID claimed I was, he apologized and handed me a printout of a missing teen, a couple of years younger than me. She could've been my identical twin. I told him that I didn't blame him for thinking I was her.

I don't remember her name, I was too shaken up by the picture. But I still wonder what she's doing and if she's okay. It was nearly twenty years ago.


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I developed schizophrenia then had my first schizophrenic attack at work. I was working it was like any other day, but out of the corner of my eye I could just see things shift and distort. Usually I'd see bugs but that was normal at that point (I was diagnosed with psychosis) but this time it was just different. Then, out of nowhere I look at and directly see a hooded person burst in through the doors with a gun. I yelled and dropped to the floor and everybody looked at me like I was the craziest person on planet earth. I was so panicked I didn't care, I could still see the guy and apparently I was rambling. They started asking what I took and what I was on, I came back and told them I thought I was drugged. I don't remember much after that, I kept getting this horrible sinking hopeless feeling of dread in the back of my mind, like an atomic bomb was dropping right next to me and there was nothing I could do. I still have days like that, that was 6 years ago.


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A few years ago, my uncle woke up at around 2 in the morning because of the ringing of a telephone beside his bed. He picked it up, and it was his friend. His friend was asking how my uncle was and such. After a brief conversation, his friend said that he was peaceful where he is, things felt great, and that he's happy. My uncle was glad to hear that and said goodbye. As he put down the telephone, my uncle woke up and realized that he was dreaming. The next day, he heard news about his friend being killed by an intruder in his house at around 1 AM.


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2:30 AM just made the turn into my neighborhood to get home. Guy in a white suit and comically large white cowboy hat (think Homer Simpson in that country music manager episode) had one hand wrapped around a sign and the other pointing at me while I drove by making eye contact the entire way.


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I posted this before, but my family and I lived in a tiny house when I was a kid. The front door opened to the living room and faced my bedroom door, which was probably 15 feet away. I was about 10 or 11 at the time.

One night, I heard a pounding at the front door. Like, someone just banging. It was somewhat rhythmic and would start and stop suddenly. I thought maybe it was our dog, who had a utility room to himself. Sometimes, he'd dig at the door to that room when he got bored. But he was sound asleep. I peered out the side windows, but saw nothing on the front porch.

I walked up to the door, and the banging sounded again. I put my hand on the door, but didn't feel any vibrations until I ran my hand to the lower right corner of the door. So maybe someone was kicking the door? The odd thing is that we had a screen door that was locked at night as well. I checked the windows again, and saw no one outside.

At this point, I'm completely creeped out, so I go back to my room, and put a few things behind the door. The next morning, I ask my parents if they heard the noise. They said no. When we opened the door, there was a set of muddy footprints going up the sidewalk, to the door, and back again, a few times.


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My dad grew up on a farm. He was playing in the hay loft where he wasn't supposed to be. At some point, he got too close to the edge and started falling backward. That's when he felt a hand forcefully pushing him up and back to safety. He thought it was his dad, who was going to be mad at him... but he turned around and no one was there.


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In College I took a local history course. Part of the course required us to dig into the local museum's archives and read the journals, notes etc that had been collected over the years and write a essay about a certain subject. Once I had narrowed down my topic I spent several nights digging through the 100 year old field journals of this local surveyor... Mostly dull, uninteresting notes about the local geography, survey coordinates and other mundane details. While delicately going through probably the 15th straight book ( had to wear these special archive gloves) I turned a page and written in pencil in the middle of the page in the surveyors handwriting was my name. First and last name spelled exactly the same with nothing else written down around it. Just ordinarily written down like when someone quickly jots down the name of a contact. Really creeped me out since the notebooks were probably close to 90-100 years old and as far as I know nobody had opened them since they had been donated to the museum. Now the combination of my first and last name isn't exactly rare but to see it spelled the exact same way in the authors writing was odd to say the least.


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When I was in elementary, I went to school ridiculously early for swim practice. Turns out it was canceled and I only found out when I got there. That meant that I had the whole school to myself. I waited near the school gate and soon enough my homeroom teacher arrived. I greeted her, saying "Hi Ms. Grace!" Here's where it gets weird: she ignored me and walked past me. Confused, I looked toward the gate, then back at where she was walking. Except... She wasn't there.

I was a bit frightened at this point so I went to wait outside my locked classroom, which happens to be next to the restrooms. I sat down on the floor. A few minutes later, I heard the eeriest, creepiest laugh coming from the restroom. It was really high-pitched, almost witch-like. It made my hairs stand on end. I was so scared I ran back toward the school gate.

A few minutes later, my homeroom teacher (the one I had just seen earlier who ignored me and then vanished into thin air) passed through the gate. She saw me and greeted me. I was too freaked out to reply. Until now, I have no idea what on earth happened. It's the only paranormal experience I haven't been able to explain to this day.


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August 16th 2008 my friend Kelsey died in a horrible river rafting accident. She was a beautiful wonderful bright light of a person who died at the young age of 23.

Anyways, prior to her leaving on her rafting trip, her and I had bought tickets to the upcoming Radiohead concert on August 19th in Vancouver. She and I shared our love for Radiohead, and a few friends of ours were going to attend with us.

Just before she left to go to her rafting trip, she and I were talking "Hey, what song would you want Radiohead to play, that you know they won't play?". Her answer was "Just" which is a song from the mid 1990's that was not ever in their set list anymore. I also asked her "what makes you like Radiohead so much?" And she said "Radiohead is Music for a rainy day."

On August 19th, 3 days after her death, we still attended the concert because we felt it was something that she would have wanted us to do. We were all in the grips of grief and I didn't really have the spirit to go... but I went anyways. We never gave her ticket to anyone, and we had the ticket torn at the gate because "she was coming with us".

It was a dry summer day, and 3/4's of the way through an absolutely awesome show, Thom Yorke looks up at the sky and says "Looks like we might get some of that famous Vancouver rain, let's play something for a rainy day, haven't played this in a while so bear with us" (or something close to that effect)

On comes JUST. A song they hadn't played live in forever. "Music for a rainy day" ... it then proceeded to DOWNPOUR for the next several hours... more rain than I've ever seen in August in Vancouver. The streets were flooded and everyone at the outdoor show was completely soaked with warm summer rain.

She came to that show with us that day, she made it rain, and I'll never forget it. RIP Kelsey, you are sorely missed.

When you gotta go, you go.

That should be a mantra for getting rid of the toxic people in our lives.

Not every relationship is meant to last forever.

Some people don't know how to be friends.

They are awfully good at pretending though.

Be vigilant of the signs and red flags.

Toxic people are crafty.

And once you're free, never look back.

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