When my son was still small, the two of us were watching a movie in the front room around dusk when my phone died. As a Type B personality, the one charger I had was typically strewn somewhere about the house; this time I found it in the kitchen. But as I crossed to the counter to plug it in, I had the overwhelming, goosebump-y, tingly sinking sense that something was very, very wrong. I turned and I realized that not only was the back gate open again, someone was sitting cross-legged in the yard seemingly staring at the house. They had a hood and dark sunglasses, despite the fleeting light, and didn’t move even when I stepped closer to the window to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. They remained eerily motionless when I was certain they could see me, and still even when I was pretty sure they could see that I had seen them. I quickly locked the back door, grabbed my phone and my charger, and headed into the dining room to my laptop, where I sent the first person I could see online a message that someone was sitting in my yard staring at my house and that my phone was dead and to please call the police if they didn’t hear from me in a few minutes.

When my son was still small, the two of us were watching a movie in the front room around dusk when my phone died. As a Type B personality, the one charger I had was typically strewn somewhere about the house; this time I found it in the kitchen. But as I crossed to the counter to plug it in, I had the overwhelming, goosebump-y, tingly sinking sense that something was very, very wrong. I turned and I realized that not only was the back gate open again, someone was sitting cross-legged in the yard seemingly staring at the house. They had a hood and dark sunglasses, despite the fleeting light, and didn’t move even when I stepped closer to the window to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. They remained eerily motionless when I was certain they could see me, and still even when I was pretty sure they could see that I had seen them. I quickly locked the back door, grabbed my phone and my charger, and headed into the dining room to my laptop, where I sent the first person I could see online a message that someone was sitting in my yard staring at my house and that my phone was dead and to please call the police if they didn’t hear from me in a few minutes.

When my son was still small, the two of us were watching a movie in the front room around dusk when my phone died. As a Type B personality, the one charger I had was typically strewn somewhere about the house; this time I found it in the kitchen. But as I crossed to the counter to plug it in, I had the overwhelming, goosebump-y, tingly sinking sense that something was very, very wrong. I turned and I realized that not only was the back gate open again, someone was sitting cross-legged in the yard seemingly staring at the house. They had a hood and dark sunglasses, despite the fleeting light, and didn’t move even when I stepped closer to the window to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. They remained eerily motionless when I was certain they could see me, and still even when I was pretty sure they could see that I had seen them. I quickly locked the back door, grabbed my phone and my charger, and headed into the dining room to my laptop, where I sent the first person I could see online a message that someone was sitting in my yard staring at my house and that my phone was dead and to please call the police if they didn’t hear from me in a few minutes.

The end of October is nearly upon us, which means only one thing here at Jezebel: Our scary story contest is coming to a close, and we’re publishing the winning tales below. We were delighted—and terrified, frankly—to read everyone’s entries; this was a good year, and no I’m not just saying that to flatter you. Our winning stories are a mix of the supernatural, the unexplainable, and perhaps the scariest of all: the very human. We’ve edited these for legibility and length, and they’re attributed to the names your fellow readers posted them under.

The end of October is nearly upon us, which means only one thing here at Jezebel: Our scary story contest is coming to a close, and we’re publishing the winning tales below. We were delighted—and terrified, frankly—to read everyone’s entries; this was a good year, and no I’m not just saying that to flatter you. Our winning stories are a mix of the supernatural, the unexplainable, and perhaps the scariest of all: the very human. We’ve edited these for legibility and length, and they’re attributed to the names your fellow readers posted them under.

The end of October is nearly upon us, which means only one thing here at Jezebel: Our scary story contest is coming to a close, and we’re publishing the winning tales below. We were delighted—and terrified, frankly—to read everyone’s entries; this was a good year, and no I’m not just saying that to flatter you. Our winning stories are a mix of the supernatural, the unexplainable, and perhaps the scariest of all: the very human. We’ve edited these for legibility and length, and they’re attributed to the names your fellow readers posted them under.

The end of October is nearly upon us, which means only one thing here at Jezebel: Our scary story contest is coming to a close, and we’re publishing the winning tales below. We were delighted—and terrified, frankly—to read everyone’s entries; this was a good year, and no I’m not just saying that to flatter you. Our winning stories are a mix of the supernatural, the unexplainable, and perhaps the scariest of all: the very human. We’ve edited these for legibility and length, and they’re attributed to the names your fellow readers posted them under.

The end of October is nearly upon us, which means only one thing here at Jezebel: Our scary story contest is coming to a close, and we’re publishing the winning tales below. We were delighted—and terrified, frankly—to read everyone’s entries; this was a good year, and no I’m not just saying that to flatter you. Our winning stories are a mix of the supernatural, the unexplainable, and perhaps the scariest of all: the very human. We’ve edited these for legibility and length, and they’re attributed to the names your fellow readers posted them under.

Not my throwawaynope said that she had a dream where she was walking around her university and as she passed through the crowds – she came across herself. It was someone who looked just like her – and they were just standing there. She tried to talk to her but there was no response - just a blank expression. But then - her face began to contort and her skin started sliding off until all that was left was a skull and dangling flaps of skin. She screamed and ran. The skeleton chased her and she yelled for help but everyone just stood and watched – nobody said a word.

She finally escaped but then her phone started vibrating. She looked down and it was a call - from her own number. She answered it and all she heard on the other end was her voice screaming in agony. As the phone hit the floor, she finally woke up …