I absolutely love hearing and reading about people’s stories. In this context, Reddit and especially the r/letsnotmeet thread has become an endless source of entertainment. It’s a place where people share stories about creepy encounters. Reading all those accounts, I realized that I, too, met a rather odd individual a couple of years ago.
The creepy encounter took place during my exchange semester in Pensacola, Florida. One day, me and some other girls decided that we’d go on a weekend trip to Tallahassee.
It was a three-hour-drive, which is not bad. But I guess we just left a little bit too late because once we arrived at our Motel, it was already dark and D., our driver, was a tad tired. That’s when it happened: Right in front of our Motel, she hit the curbstone.
Her car made a terrible noise and for a couple of meters we were driving along the sidewalk, one side of the car still being on the road, while the other half was on the pavement. Needless to say, that completely ruined the front tire of the car. Luckily, nobody got hurt and there were some guests outside of the Motel who helped us to change the tire.
As a group of guys started fixing the car, another guy – he must have been one or two years younger than me – came over to me and started talking.
“So what brings you guys to Tallahassee?”, he asked.
“We just wanted to do some sightseeing”, I replied. “What about you?”
“I’m visiting my mom”, he said.
“Nice”, I replied.
“She’s in prison”, he said without expressing any emotion.
I wasn’t sure what to say so I just went with: “Okay.”
For a couple of seconds, there was an awkward silence. I wasn’t sure how comfortable he was talking about his imprisoned mom but since he brought it up…
“What did she do?”
“She’s serving a sentence for manslaughter”, he said.
Back then, I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. No worries, I’ve since looked up “manslaughter” in the dictionary. But I still remember that I was freaked out by how incredibly violent this word sounded. But the creepiest part of this encounter had yet to come.
“That sucks”, I said, trying to keep it casual.
“That’s her, by the way”, he said and pointed to a spot behind me where the Motel was.
I turned around and saw the silhouette of a person standing right at the window of a room in the fourth floor. They must have watched us all this time.
“We’re done”, I heard one of the guys that were fixing the car say before I even got the chance to say anything.
This encounter left me puzzled and until this day, I’m still wondering about it. Like why would his mother be in a Motel when she’s supposed to be in prison and why would her son just open up about that to a random stranger. Or was he just messing with me?
I don’t know. And I guess it’s better to keep it that way. So dear Florida teen, let’s not meet again. But also, dear Florida teen, thanks for providing me with another blog post idea. Hope you and your mom are doing fine.