Full transcript of “3 Horrifying TRUE Stalker-Ex Horror Stories”. Click a timestamp to open the video at that moment. Need another video? Use the YouTube transcript generator.
0:05 As you're about to hear in the following stories, mental health is not something to be taken lightly, and it's important to stay on top of your mental health. You grow up imagining your life will look a certain way at a certain age. But things don't always work out the way you pictured. Maybe you don't end up in the job you thought you would. Maybe you're feeling stuck or like everyone else is moving forward while you're just standing still. It can be hard to talk about that, even harder to ask for help. Maybe therapy always feels like something other people did. But then I learned that it's not about having something wrong with you. It's about understanding yourself and finding a healthier way to move forward. That's where today's sponsor, BetterHelp, comes in. BetterHelp matches you with a licensed therapist after a short questionnaire, often in just a couple of days. And if it's not the right fit, you can switch therapists anytime at no
0:52 extra cost. With over 7,000 reviews and a 4.3 rating on Trustpilot, BetterHelp is a platform you can trust. Go to betterhelp.com/mrnightmare to get 10% off your first month. The link is also in the description. [Music] So, a little backstory. I dated this girl when I was in my senior year of high school. I'm 20 now, so it was a couple of years ago, but still pretty fresh in my mind. For privacy sake, I won't use her real name, so I'll refer to her as Grace. Grace and I met through our job, which I now know is never ideal. Before we started dating, though, there were red flags that I simply shouldn't have ignored. For instance,
1:38 she would come to our place of work for hours just to watch me work, and I would catch her staring at me every once in a while. Besides that, a few months into our relationship, things started getting pretty toxic. I would constantly feel suffocated. I had no time for my hobbies, friends, or even myself. She was the type of girl to ask where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing 24/7. If I didn't answer a phone call, it would end up being 25 missed calls and a ton of text messages that would ultimately turn into a fight, even if I was just using the bathroom. It got to the point where I couldn't play games with my friends without it causing a fight. So, eventually, we broke up, but not without her doing everything in her power to convince me to come back. She would wait outside my place of work for me to get off. And when I would walk
2:25 outside, she would follow me to my car, block me from getting in, and try to reason with me. I got sick of it. One night, she came and wanted to talk. So, I decided to talk with her, not really knowing what else to do. Grace was also trying to sue me for something extremely petty that I'd rather not get into and would use this as a scare tactic to make me talk to her. So, anyway, I sat down in her car. She was saying the same old stuff I'd heard hundreds of times. I told her I was done talking, but at that time her dad called her. She used this as a threat and told me, "If you don't sit here and talk to me, I'll have him sue you now." And to that, I said, "Fuck this." and attempted to get out of her car. The door was locked, though, so as I was unlocking it, she grabbed hold of
3:11 my arm and dug her nails into my skin. I looked at her and was genuinely shocked because she'd only been verbally abusive before, never physical. I had also never seen that look on her face. It was pure malice, and I won't lie, I was pretty unnerved. I myself am a pretty tall guy, and she was very small, so I knew I could overpower her if I had to. I swung her door open and tried to step away, but she was holding me extremely tight. I told her to let me go, but she wouldn't budge. I kept pulling on my arm, trying to get away, but she would not move an inch. At this point, my skin was starting to peel. So, I made a judgment call and pulled her toward me onto the passenger seat, which gave me enough time to get away and into my car. I drove home faster than I ever have,
3:57 and I really wish I could say I'd ended there, but of course, it doesn't. Unfortunately for me, Grace and I are practically neighbors, and she lives a couple blocks away. That night while I was playing video games, I heard a car outside, but I kind of chocked it up to my game as I remember playing GTA 5 that night. I had also smoked a bit of weed, so I figured that would have made the car noises louder. A little bit of time passed and as I was playing, I heard a tap on my window. I thought I was being paranoid, as weed can tend to make me a little on edge sometimes, especially after what had happened. But that thought quickly faded after I heard another tap and a female voice saying my name. I knew it was Grace and I started to panic. My window doesn't have the
4:43 best blinds, so I knew she could see me. I didn't want to open my window because at this point I knew she could be potentially dangerous. I pretended not to hear her, hoping that she would go away. But of course, she didn't because after a minute or two, she started banging on my window. Her tone changed from soft and apologetic to more aggressive and angry. I couldn't make out much of what she was saying, but it was something along the lines of, "You can't do this to me. You're an asshole." That sort of deal. I had to do something. I didn't want to waste the cop's time, but now looking back at it, I absolutely should have called them. I made the stupid decision to open my door and ask what she wanted. I asked why she was here and why she couldn't just leave me alone. Her tone changed once again to soft-spoken and she was asking for her
5:28 sweater back. I yelled at her and told her she can't just be at my window at 2:00 in the morning asking for a sweater. And then I said if she didn't leave my property, I'd be calling the cops. At this point, she blew up screaming at me while starting to sob uncontrollably. For a moment, I actually felt bad, but then my heart dropped as I saw something that still sends shivers down my spine to this day. She wasn't alone. To the left of her was a thick tree in our front yard and peeking out from it was a hooded figure. She saw me move to focus to the tree and she knew I saw them. She reached for my arm and grabbed me. And as she did this, I saw the person run out from behind the tree, but I couldn't make out any facial features. It didn't matter because they were sprinting toward my window. In that moment, my
6:15 fight or flight kicked in and I slammed my window shut on Greg's arm. She screamed out in pain and pulled it back. I slammed it shut and locked it just before the other person reached my window. My heart was racing and it felt like I couldn't breathe. I showed them my phone dialing 911 and at that they hurried back to her car, started it and drove away. I was in total shock, not even comprehending what had just happened. They sent an officer to my house. He took down my story and told me they'd call if anything came of it. Of course, there wasn't much they could do as there was no evidence anything happened like most 911 calls. As far as I know, she never had any legal action taken against her. As for what they wanted with me, she's also gotten people
7:01 jumped and robbed before, so I wouldn't doubt they wanted to do that or possibly worse. I'm just extremely lucky that the person hiding behind the tree decided to peek out. [Music] My name is Amy and I haven't really slept much since last Tuesday. Not because I can't, but because I don't feel safe closing my eyes anymore. That's what happens, I guess, when someone you thought you knew turns out to be capable of something you only expect from horror movies. I broke up with my boyfriend Tommy 3 weeks ago. It wasn't dramatic, at least not at first. We'd been dating for just under a year.
7:47 In the beginning, he was sweet. He was overly attentive and always texting and calling like any partner once. At first, it felt like real love, the kind you think you're lucky to have. But over time, it turned possessive. He'd get upset if I took too long to reply. He'd ask weird questions like who I'd smiled at that day or if I'd seen any guys looking at me. Sometimes he'd show up at my job unannounced, just standing outside the window like he was checking in. He even showed up to the bars I was at with friends if I was having a girl's night out and then forced me to come home with him. My friends started to hate him for these exact reasons. He never trusted me, but I didn't end it until he started asking if I'd ever consider putting a tracker on my phone to keep each other safe. Not to start
8:34 sharing each other's locations, but to literally put a tracker on my phone. That was the last straw for me. I told him it was over and in response, he cried at first, but then he went silent. I remember hanging up on our last call with this strange tightness in my chest, like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For a little while, things were quiet. I blocked his number and tried to move on. I started going back to the gym, cooking real meals, just trying to feel normal again. But about a week after the breakup, I started getting strange messages. not from Tommy or at least not directly, but from random numbers with no name or context. They were short, usually just a vague single sentence. I didn't reply to any of them.
9:19 That's a surefire way to get a spam number to know to keep harassing you. I just blocked each number as it came. I did not tell my friends. I told myself it was probably a scam or some spam bot because I've always gotten spam texts. But then things moved beyond just random texts. One night, I was in bed and had to get up to pee. I went into the hallway outside my bedroom, and before entering the bathroom, I thought I heard a soft noise come from downstairs in the foyer. I'm not the type to go check on a noise. I get scared in the dark, hence why I always like being in a relationship so I don't have to stay alone all the time. I didn't go down to check it. I convinced myself it was a radiator clicking or something. I've lived in this apartment for almost 2 years, and most of that time was spent
10:05 living with my ex, George, and then Tommy the remainder of that time, but hardly ever alone. I know the sounds it makes, and honestly, that sound was not one I'd heard before. So, after I went to the bathroom, I went straight back into my room and jumped into bed, thinking the thin sheet of blanket cloth would protect me. Another night, around 2:00 a.m., I could have sworn I heard a door in my apartment open from outside my room. That was the sound that woke me up, so I wasn't 100% sure of it. It could have been part of my dream, maybe. Still, my heart was racing. I texted my family group chat with my siblings and my parents just saying, "I keep hearing noises every night. I'm getting scared." Of course, they were all asleep, though, so I went back to sleep. That weekend, I
10:51 came home from visiting my sister and immediately felt like something was off. Nothing was missing or broken, but I felt like maybe doors were left open at angles that they weren't left before. It may sound far-fetched, but it's not. I have a habit of leaving doors closed or near closed when I leave my apartment. All the doors were basically fully open in the entire apartment. There was no draft at all. I keep the air conditioning on most of the time. I walked through the apartment slowly, checking each room. My stomach dropped when I saw that the hallway closet was slightly open. Now I knew something was wrong. I always leave that closet door closed. There's no reason to leave it open, and plus the door tends to swing out if I do leave it open. I stared at
11:37 it for what felt like a full minute before I approached. When I pulled it fully open, nothing was there. Just coats and shoes, same as usual. That night, I pushed a chair under my bedroom door and slept with a knife under my pillow. I kept the bedside lamp on. I must have dozed off at some point because I woke up to the sound of something moving, just a soft shuffle. I sat up slightly, confused, and then I realized the light was now off and the room was dark. I looked toward the door. I could see it was open, but I had wedged a chair under it. How could it be wide open? At first, I thought maybe I dreamed wedging the chair and leaving on the light, or maybe I'd gotten up in my sleep, but I quickly found out how wrong I was. I saw something at the foot of my
12:25 bed in the dark. I swear I couldn't tell what it was. It was just some black mass in the dark. But when I finally started realizing that what I was looking at was the top half of someone's head, it was too late because I felt two hands start caressing my feet, and I completely lost it. I screamed so loud until I had no air left in my lungs. And I instantly recognized Tommy's voice telling me to calm down. But when I kept screaming, he got on top of me and put his hand over my mouth. He told me he wasn't there to hurt me, just to talk. He said he wouldn't let go of my mouth until I agreed to be quiet. So, I nodded. The first thing I asked him was how he got into my apartment. And he said he made a copy of my key when we were together, just in case there was ever an emergency. He never told me he did this
13:12 straight psychopath behavior. He must have snuck out overnight one night with my keys to do it somewhere. As I sat there listening to him, I debated pulling the knife, but I was too scared to do so. I knew if I did that, I had to actually be ready to use it. He kept saying over and over how he wasn't there to hurt me, just to talk. But it seemed like he was simply there to scare me into agreeing to get back with him. And I truly was too scared to say no in fear of what he might do. So I said yes, but I asked him to simply leave for the night because I was shook. I think he was there in my bed for half an hour total before he left. And when he was gone, the first thing I did was call the police and explain the breakin. I said I was scared that he was still on the premises so that the police would
13:57 actually come. When they did, I made an official police report, which I later used to file a restraining order against Tommy with enough people backing up my claims since I couldn't actually prove he broke into my house. A detective later traced the fake numbers back to his cell phone through some fake phone number app, which was also helpful in getting the restraining order. I stayed with my parents until I was able to get a new apartment. My advice to all women out there is the first sign of any sort of mental illness in the man you're with, you should really consider getting away as soon as possible just to be safe. I still have to live with the trauma of waking up to him in my room, and I had to actually consider pulling a knife on him. [Music]
14:47 I dated Marissa for a year and a half. At first, she was one of the most intense people I'd ever met. Not in a bad way. She was passionate, charismatic, and could talk about anything for hours. When she left, it was like she pulled you into her world. The first few months were incredible. She'd surprise me with gifts, leave sticky notes with poems on my mirror, text me good night every single night without fail. But that intensity had a darker side. She didn't do calm or wait and see. Everything was either perfect or catastrophic. If I was 5 minutes late responding to a text, she'd send a stream of messages. First worried, then angry, and then apologizing. It got worse slowly, almost invisibly.
15:32 She once accused me of cheating because I liked an Instagram post from a girl I hadn't spoken to since high school. And when I told her that something she did made me uncomfortable, she would shut down completely. I don't mean just get quiet. I mean, she would sit in my apartment for hours staring at the wall, just refusing to leave until I told her everything was fine. The first time she showed up at my office unannounced was 6 months in. She brought coffee and acted like it was cute, like we were some TV couple. I laughed it off, but the second time was because I hadn't answered her call. She stayed parked outside in the lot until I came down. She'd been crying. I told her it wasn't okay and she just smiled and said, "You do the same for me, right?" I didn't have an
16:18 answer for that. I kept making excuses for her. Trauma, abandonment issues, childhood stuff. I thought if I just proved I wasn't going to leave, she'd calm down. Instead, the more I gave, the more she needed. Eventually, I reached my limit. I told her it had to end. She didn't yell or cry. She just stared at me in silence for what felt like minutes. Then she nodded and said, "You think it's over for you, but it's not over for me." I remember how cold that made me feel. Like it wasn't even a threat, just a fact. I blocked her on everything that same night, and I changed my number. I even asked my building manager if I could get a different unit. For a few weeks, I thought it worked. Then the letter
17:04 started showing up. The letters had no stamps or return addresses, just my name handwritten on the envelope, usually left between my door and the frame. I held on to some of these notes. The first one was kind of nostalgic. It said, "I miss waking up to you. I still sleep on the side of the bed where you used to lay." The second one got stranger. It said, "You always check the door three times before you go to bed. You probably don't even notice it, but I do." The third letter was the one that made me pack a suitcase. It said, "You wore your blue hoodie Monday. The one with the hole in the sleeve. You should sew that up before it gets worse." That was the same hoodie I wore when I went to pick up groceries that day at a
17:50 store across town in the pouring rain. I hadn't seen anyone, not a single person I recognized, but she had seen me. I knew then that moving across the city wouldn't be enough. I found a job in Denver, a good one. I didn't tell anyone except my brother and immediate family. I left no forwarding address. I even created a new email for the job, and I didn't link any personal info. I went completely dark. I even got a P.O. box under a false name. I thought that would be enough, and for a while, it was. Many months passed and I slept soundly. I started dating again. Nothing serious, just drinks and movies. But I was laughing again. I felt like a person.
18:35 Then one Saturday, I opened my P.O. box and found an envelope. Just my name again. No stamp or return address. Inside was a Polaroid. It was of me walking my apartment building taken from behind. My earbuds were in and I had a coffee in one hand. It was cold out. You could see snow on the sidewalk and the mountains in the background. I checked the back and written in red ink, it said, "Your shoulders slouch when you're tired." I didn't wait. I moved again, faster this time. I paid cash for a rental in a different part of town. Smaller building and fewer tenants. I switched jobs once again and told my boss I had family stuff and had to go fully remote. I got a rescue dog who was
19:21 big and loud, a big German Shepherd mix to try and keep me sane. I deleted mostly everything online. and I had no apps or social media. I went gray for almost a year and heard nothing. No letters or pictures anymore. I let myself believe she was finally gone until the post-it note. It was stuck to my front door one evening when I got home from walking the dog. It was a yellow note with red ink and it said, "I don't like the beard." My stomach actually dropped. I grown it out maybe 3 months prior. Nobody had seen me with it except the dog and maybe my work webcam, which I kept taped over unless on a call. I shaved it off that night. I told myself it was a coincidence. But the next morning,
20:06 another note was waiting. Tucked under the windshield wiper of my car. It said better. I contacted the police again and filed a report. They said without threats or property damage, there wasn't anything they could do. I asked if I could file a restraining order and they said I'd need to prove she'd been near me, which without seeing her or catching her in the act was nearly impossible. I changed my habits and started paying attention to every detail, like locking the doors and drawing the blinds. I didn't sleep much. I'd lie in bed for hours staring at the ceiling and waiting for the floorboards to creek. Two weeks passed with no incident. I started to wonder if maybe the notes were old. Maybe she'd left them a while ago and I'd only just noticed. But deep down, I
20:52 didn't even believe that. Then one night, I woke up in the middle of the night with this horrible feeling, like someone had just been watching me, and they only just stepped out of the room. I got up and checked the doors and windows, even under the bed, like I was a kid again. Nothing was out of place. But the next morning, taped to the outside of my front door, was a small envelope, like someone had taken their time to align it perfectly. Inside was a photo, one I hadn't seen in years. It was Marissa and I in a boardwalk photo booth from back when we were still together. We were smiling, and her head was on my shoulder, but her eyes had been stretched out in deep gouges like someone had used a needle or a pin. I moved again, not across town this time,
21:37 but out of the city completely. I found a small cabin 3 hours into the mountains. It was isolated and surrounded by pine trees with only one road in. I paid in cash and used a fake name on the lease, which was a month-to-month payment system. And I left my old smartphone behind, getting a second phone number in the process. I bought a burner phone for emergencies mainly. I worked remote through a companyisssued laptop that only connected through a secure VPN. No one besides my immediate family and my best friend knew where I was. I kept to myself. The only quote unquote visitor I got was my Uber Eats driver delivering occasional groceries. For a whole month, I barely even went into town. And it all finally worked until I heard footsteps outside
22:23 crunching the snow. My dog went ballistic. The next morning, I found the footprints. They were shoe marks, and they went from window to window. There were no notes or anything left anywhere on the house, though. What else was I to assume other than it was her, that she found me again, even though I still don't know for certain if that was actually her that time? I spent that entire day packing my things and driving back to my hometown. Today, I'm living in a house with three roommates who were in the military. If that's not a house that people know not to mess with, I don't know what is. Their pickup trucks, purple heart plates, and giant flags all over the front of the house are absolutely deterrent to Marissa playing whatever psychopathic game she was playing. She's
23:08 a mentally unstable stalker. It's clear as day, and she's a danger to herself, me, and whoever she gets involved with in the future. I just wish law enforcement was more willing to step in and do something before something really bad happens.
