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r/nosleep

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Posted by11 days ago
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Posted by8 days ago
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Posted by15 hours ago
Bravo!I'm DeceasedHelpfulWholesome2Silver4

It’s funny, you never think you’ll wind up married to a clown. Yet there I was at the age of thirty, catering for some brat’s 8th birthday party, when the mother stood at the far edge of the fancy garden and introduced ‘Mr. Giggles’ to a chorus of cheers.

From behind the lunch counter, I watched as my future husband made doves disappear with a flourish of his hands and juggled behind his back. Around him, the children sat in a little semi-circle roaring with laughter.

After the performance, Mr. Giggles wandered over to me, introduced himself as Johnny, and asked for a cheeseburger.

“That was quite a show,” I said, slipping a beef patty into a bun. I remember thinking he looked kinda cute—you know, beneath the face paint and rainbow wig.

“Thanks,” he said, still breathless from the pratfalls. “I’ve been workshopping some new material. I used to have this bit with an angry hand puppet, but kids these days hate hand puppets. Go figure.”

Johnny, unlike his character, came across all shy and soft-spoken. Every so often, kids hopped up on fizzy drinks and chocolate cake stormed over and asked for an encore, and each time Mr. Giggles sprung to life, pulling coins out of ears or squirting water from the flower on his lapel. That infectious enthusiasm is what warmed my heart, I think.

Fast forward six years and the entire groom party (all professional clowns) pulled up to our wedding in a single Mini Cooper.

Now here’s a recipe for one strained marriage: take two independent contractors, mix in a lockdown, season with some overdue mortgage payments, et viola!

Johnny crammed all his equipment inside this spare room at the back of the house, and one afternoon, while passing the outside hallway, I heard a hushed conversation from behind the door.

Rather than become one of those couples who needed to constantly keep tabs on their spouse, I forced myself to walk on by.

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Posted by14 hours ago

"Honey, breakfast is ready," the friendly voice of my mother called from the other room. It awoke a warm and happy memory. One of our Sunday breakfasts where my mum would make the best waffles in the world, my parents would share the newspaper and the smell of coffee would fill our whole house. While I was too young to have any of it then, I loved the smell of fresh coffee. My mum always used to mix in spices like nutmeg.

I wish I could have tried her special coffee but she passed away before I was old enough for it.

My eyes shot open.

Whose voice had just woken me up?

I was lying on the couch in our living room. Well, my dad's living room. I moved out four years ago, just after I turned 20.

Slowly, I got up and took more steps than necessary until I was standing in the doorframe between the kitchen and the living room.

"Dad?" I carefully asked but nobody answered.

While it was always slightly emotionally painful, it wasn't unusual. I often heard mum's voice in my dreams but it was weird that I smelled waffles and coffee while the kitchen table was completely empty.

I shook my aching head, I had the most horrendous hangover that I needed to cure with more sleep. Upstairs, in my old bedroom, not on the uncomfortable couch.

Dad must have made a toaster waffle before he went to work-

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Posted by8 hours ago
WholesomeSilver

Link to Part One: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/y1j653/im_a_fire_watch_lookout_and_i_think_ive_made_a/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3


By the time dawn arrived the next morning, I had climbed down from my temporary shelter in the low boughs of a red cedar and tried to work out all the painful kinks from my stiff shoulders and neck. The night had not been kind to me, but I was alive, which is more than my fear-stressed mind expected after yesterday.

The night had been harrowing – there was no better word to describe it. The rain hissed among the trees and stung exposed skin angrily, driven by the banshee-wail of the wind rushing through the forest, and was accentuated by the chaotic flashing of lightning and heart-stopping crack of thunder.

Because of this relentless chaos, it’s difficult to say with any certainty. But throughout the night, I thought I heard something large trying to move stealthily in the forest near my shelter. I say, “trying”, because it felt like whatever stalked through the underbrush was more at home in the unnatural stygian gloom of a cave than under the watchful eyes of nature.

Of course, it could just as easily have been my imagination.

When the first dim light of dawn started to illuminate the sodden and dripping forest, I spent the better part of twenty minutes straining my eyes with every ounce of concentration as I scanned the gray woodlands around me. I was only ten feet or so above the ground, but there was no way I was going to step foot from my hide until I was absolutely certain I was alone. Once I was satisfied that I was alone for the moment, I climbed down to the muddy ground.

I tried the radio several times through the night and into the morning but wasn’t able to get even a burst of static that might indicate someone was trying to respond. A combination of the storm and the interference from the trees worked against me.

My first thought was to get back to my Jeep as quickly as possible and run every drop of gas out of its tank trying to get as far away from this place as I could. When I checked the GPS to see how close I was to its marked position, however, I found the unit unresponsive and with a disastrous crack across the screen that seemed to mock my dismay.

Probably caused by my less-than-graceful scramble from that damned cave.

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Posted by15 hours ago

I need some help. I’m writing this after I had the most frightening experience of my life. To tell you the truth, I don’t even fully understand what happened. What’s worse is that I don’t know if I’m in danger.

Let me give you some context…

Clara and I started dating a couple of months ago.

We met in a pub. She looked sad and… Lonely. So, I approached her.

We started dating, and I immediately thought she was odd. It was a somehow fascinating oddness, though.

I confirmed that the first time we decided to meet at her place. We exchanged messages all day, knowing I’d come for dinner, so around 7-8 pm.

Yet, she kept texting me, asking me to confirm I’d come at 8, and “definitely not later”. I found it a bit weird, such an obsession for a specific time, for a date taking place at home. But that wasn’t even nearly as odd as what followed.

I did come at 8. It was clear I was going to stay over for the night, so I had brought my backpack with me. We had some wine, cuddled on the couch, and then started talking. At 11.45 sharp, she abruptly stopped our conversation and stood up to go close all the blinds of the house and lock the door. I remember the time because she did the exact same thing ever since…

Every night, the latest at 11.50, she would stand up, no matter what we were doing, and she’d close all the windows, blinds, and lock the entrance door. I always thought she just had an irrational fear for burglars. That’s what she confirmed as well when I asked her.

Obviously, it didn’t take me long to realize that she didn’t want to get out of the house beyond that time either. If we were to go out, we had to be home before 11.50. It was a frustrating situation, and her attempts at changing subject or avoid questions made it only worse.

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Nosleep is a place for redditors to share their scary personal experiences. Please read our guidelines in the sidebar/"about" section before proceeding.
Created Mar 24, 2010

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