Sometimes strange things happen to us that we have no way of explaining, whatsoever. We’ve all felt the hairs on the back of our neck stand up when we feel like we’re being watched, or had a bad feeling when we’ve walked into a room. But what about the times we have these experiences and it turns out we were right? How do we explain those? People on Reddit were recently asked: “What is something scary that has happened to you that you cannot explain rationally?” Here are 10 spine-tingling replies…

The Doppelgänger

I live in a condominium and we own two apartments on the 7th and 8th floor. The only way to move in between them is to step out of the apartment, take the elevator or the staircase and enter the other one.

One night, we ran out of ice-cream upstairs and my mom told me to go get some from the downstairs freezer, so I took the keys to the 7th floor’s apartment and since it was dinner time, no one was there. I walked into the pitch dark and realized that someone was sitting on the sofa so I flipped the switch to see my dad just sitting there. It was kinda weird, but i just went to get the ice-cream and asked if he had a key to lock up. No answer. I shrugged and thought ‘Well if he came in and locked the door behind him, he must have one.’ Went back upstairs and my dad was sitting there eating dinner. I freaked out and asked how the heck did he get up here so fast and everyone told me that he’s been here all this time. Told them it wasn’t possible cause I just saw him downstairs but no one believed me. Now I never go down there alone.


The Premonition

So a few years back, probably 6-7 years, my family was living in our previous home. This was our second house in we had in Ohio, the first house was about to streets over from our second house. Well one night my mom woke me up and was acting really panicked. She grabbed my brother, who was probably 5 at the time, and told me to go outside. It was about 4 in the morning, and once we all got outside my dad tried to calm my mom down. He asked her what was wrong, and she had explained that she had a dream that we were all gonna die from carbon monoxide poisoning if we stayed in the house. Then my dad told her that all the detectors were working perfectly fine and we decided to go back inside. We didn’t smell anything nor did the detectors go off, so we went to bed…


The next day my mom was watching the morning news before we went to school. The first story for the day was that a local family was rushed out of their home because of a carbon monoxide leak in there home. Which could have been just coincidence, but then the news station showed the house. It was our old house that we just moved out of.


The Attic

There was a small door that led to attic space in my bedroom and it became habit that I would shut the door as I walked into my bedroom a couple times a week. I didn’t think anything of it, just assumed my mom didn’t close it all the way when she left it.

After a while I made the mistake of joking with her when she made a comment about me not picking up after myself, I said something like ‘every night I have to close the attic door behind you, how about you shut it all the way when you’re done?’ She then informed me that she hasn’t been in the attic in months.

After a couple months of wondering, studying, experimenting, I thought I’d see what happens if I just don’t shut it. Opened the door before school and checked it after school, still open. Now I’m laying in bed, mind going crazy with the open door across the room. Decide to check it out so I roll over and focus on the black space into the attic… to see a face staring back at me. Bolt downstairs, wake parents, get ridiculed by brother, switch bedrooms w brother, move into new house about 6 months later (due to expanding household). New physics teacher and his wife bought our house.

End of senior year my friend and I took our VHS camcorder around town, doing mostly silly things, but then took it to my old house to see what they’ve done with the place. We got a very fun tour, I got to tell stories about all the projects my dad did that were still part of the house.

Then the wife leads us upstairs to show us the sewing room. I ask (jokingly), ‘Notice anything strange in this room?’ and her face goes blank. On camera, she asks what I mean and I try to shrug it off but end up saying something about the attic door. She confirmed that every time she comes up to sew, the attic door is open. She then tells us that the second day of being in the house, their dog had gone into the room but would not go back downstairs. He started barking and could not be consoled, and then jumped through the window, landing on the tin roof over the porch and then running off. The dog did not come back until the next day and has not stepped foot into the hallway that leads upstairs since.


The Bad Feeling

When I was in uni I lived by myself. I would honestly think nothing of walking places at night, there was a 24 hour McDonald’s and a 7 Eleven that I would walk to, often between 12am to 3am since I was a massive night owl.

Well one day after finishing an essay at about 2 in the morning I decided I was hungry but didn’t really have anything easy to cook so I decided to walk down to the 7 eleven and grab a pie or something. However as soon as I opened my door I was overcome by a suffocating feeling of fear, my heart started pounding, I started shaking, the works. Telling myself that this was ridiculous I walked out to the street with the intent to still go but that was as far as I got. I was terrified for no reason that I could understand, but no less intensely despite that. I ran back inside and ate dry cereal.

Later the next day I heard about a group of drunk guys that were causing havoc down near the intersection at the 7 eleven, they’d beaten up someone from my uni. Even though I can’t explain it, I’m convinced something bad would have happened to me that night if I had ignored that feeling and gone anyway.



The Mannequins

When I was younger my mom was dating this guy (who we will call JB) and after a few months he invited my mom, me, and my brother to go with him and his son (about my age) out to his lake house for the weekend.

His grandfather had helped to build the place with his (the grandfather’s) dad and then he lived their for most of his life working as a tailor in the nearby town. Well when we went up to the attic to get beach toys I noticed in the corner covered in some dust and cobwebs about 8 mannequins, some just upper torsos and some full body. Not to out of the ordinary considering a tailor had lived there.

Me and JB’s son slept down in the living room on the couch since there were no more beds, and near midnightish I heard on of the stairs squeak a few times. Figuring it was my mom coming to check to make sure we were asleep I told his son to be quiet and quickly turned the TV off and hid under the covers. After not hearing any noise for a few minutes I looked out from under the covers and saw three of the mannequins moving around in the kitchen. Like their body parts weren’t moving but they were sliding around the kitchen.

I swore I was dreaming but was so terribly frightened I hid back under the covers with a small yelp and then heard the dragging on the floor coming closer and peaked out seeing one of them just a few feet from the couch. I hid back under the covers and shut my eyes tight hoping it would go away. The next morning I got up and tried not to think about it, really really hoping it was just a bad dream but when we went back up to the attic to put the beach stuff back the mannequins were in different spots and weren’t covered in cobwebs any more…..


The Time Traveller

I was in first grade, hanging out at recess with a friend. He was shooting some hoops outside and I was playing DS, sitting on the pavement. I remember him asking me if he could make a shot from halfway across the court. I told him he could try but he probably wouldn’t make it while looking at my DS. Suddenly, my dad asks me what I mean, and when I look up I’m sitting on my living room carpet, talking to my dad, and it’s dark out. I was sitting in the same position, playing the same game, same level, and same exact spot in the level. Everything continued normally that night, and I didn’t tell anyone at the time, but looking back it is really freaky. I thought it was a dream for the longest time, but thinking about it it didn’t really feel like a dream, and I don’t really remember dreams that well.


The Cats Goodbye

When I was 6 years old, I had a cat named Buster. Suffice it to say, Buster didn’t like being hugged and coddled all the time by a little child, so he hated me.He was also an outdoor cat, so he would often spend most days outside and then come in for the night.

One night, Buster didn’t come back in the house. We usually fed him at night, so I was worried. Our area was also well-known for an abundance of coyotes. My parents were being a bit hush-hush about Buster’s disappearance, but I didn’t get the hint. That night, when I was drifting off to sleep, Buster jumped onto my bed. He lay down by my head and let me pet him until I fell asleep. Honestly, I was shocked because he had never done this before.

The next morning, I triumphantly walked downstairs and related to my parents that Buster now loved me because he slept in my bed during the night. My parents looked at me inquisitively and sat me down at the breakfast table to let me know that while they were outside the night before, they had found Buster’s body in the alley behind our house. They thought he had been harassed by a coyote. But, he was dead, so he couldn’t have slept in my bed that night. To this day, I like to think that Buster just wanted to say goodbye and thank me for trying to love him in the only way a child knew how.


The Typist

In my childhood home I would often hear touch typing coming from the computer downstairs early in the mornings. I didn’t think much of it at first – my parents worked from home and it wouldn’t be uncommon to wake up in the morning to hear Mum typing away at the computer.

One morning I was eating my breakfast when I heard Mum at the top of the stairs call out to me, “You’re not down there on that computer already?!” I froze and ran out to her. I was amazed she had heard it too; she was convinced she could hear typing, yet no one was down there. I told her about all the times I’d been hearing it and then my sister opened up about hearing it regularly too when no one was down there. I wasn’t crazy after all.

I was down there once when the ceiling light globe in the center of the room began flashing very fast, strobe-like. It then exploded and glass went shattering all across the room. I was lucky I ran out of the room when it started happening because I was scared (the whole mysterious typing, you know). If I hadn’t ran I would’ve been hit with bits of light bulb.

Around that same time I was on the computer at home by myself when something happened that resulted in me never being alone in that room again. I felt and heard this really sharp intake of breath directly behind my right shoulder near my ear. I’ve never ran so fast in my life and was hesitant going in that room ever again. Prior to that, the whole typing thing had just been something weird and a bit spooky – not scary. Still makes my heart race when I think about it today.



The Museum

Last time I was in New Orleans, I took a couple friends to the Marie Laveau Voodoo Museum, which my friend Jessica was not too impressed by. Later that day we were walking back to the airBNB apartment we had rented and wandered past a house that had one of those historic location plaques on it. Turns out that house had been Marie Laveau’s father’s house. As we’re all standing out front of this house, Jessica is complaining about how shitty she thought the museum was and her brand new Galaxy S5 went flying out of her hands and landed a good 5 feet away, totally destroyed. I was looking right at her when it happened – she didn’t trip, she wasn’t wildly throwing her arms around. There was no explanation for why her phone would have taken a leap like that. Also, it wasn’t just a little scratched up like it had been dropped. It looked like it had exploded from within.


A Series of Events

1) My parents had been married for maybe a month. They were in bed sound asleep when all of a sudden, my mom jumps up and wakes up my dad. “Jimmy! Jimmy! There’s blood everywhere! We have to help them! Please!” My dad tried his best to calm her down and figure out what she was talking about. My mom had explained that she saw a car with a German license plate on the side of the road. That there had been an accident and they needed help.

My dad tried to console her…to explain that it was all just a bad dream, but she wasn’t having it. So to appease her, they got in the car and drove to the spot my mom thought the accident was. And sure enough, at the exact spot my mom said, there was a car on the side of the road with German plates and emergency flashers on. Upon closer investigation, there was nobody in the car. If they needed help, help had already come.

2) My parents had just had their first child, my oldest sister, Cathy. They had been living in Italy at the time (my dad was in the Air Force) and had brought her back to the US to introduce her to the grandparents (my dad’s parents). So their first night there, my mom was asleep in the front bedroom, jet-lagged. My dad had gone out to hang out with his brothers. And in the middle of the night, this woman walks into my mom’s room, waking her up. She sit’s down on the bed and says, “Shh, it’s ok! I just wanted to welcome you to the family.” My mom was scared, obviously, but figured this was some relative or family friend or something that came over.

The woman walks over to the bassinet where my baby sister was sleeping. “Is this your daughter?” My mom nodded. “She’s beautiful! It’s lovely to meet you both.” And then she leaves. My mom wakes up the next day and is having breakfast with my grandmother when she brings it up. “Who was the woman that came over last night?” My grandmother had no idea what she was talking about.

My mom told her the whole story and my grandmother asked what she looked like. My mom said, “She was tall, had long white hair and was wearing a blue dress.” My grandmother’s face went as white as a sheet. She rummaged through some old pictures and pulled one out. “Is this her?” she asked my mom who nodded in return. “That’s MY mother! She’s been dead for 20 years and we buried her in a blue dress.”