shit-demons-say

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[x]: Because people were too lazy to watch the video, but instead, took [x] at face value.

but guys imagine jonathan trying to flirt but really freaking sucking at it

“hey yeah i dont completely hate you”

“your eyes are kinda sort of…good”

“are you an ange- never mind”

“you make me wanna…not throw a brick at everyone”

Creepy Shit Kids Say

    “Parents of Reddit, what is the creepiest thing your young child has ever said to you?”(reddit.com)


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“sucked a dick today at school.”

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“What do you wanna be when you grow up?” “A stranger with a knife”

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When my son was about 4 or 5 we were in the toilet before his bedtime and he was brushing his teeth and he dropped his tooth brush and i picked it up for him and when my eyes met him he just stared at me and said “dad why does that man have a knife” and pointed behind me. Quickest 180 i’ve ever fucking done

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Not my kid, a friend of mine. His 3 year old son, for whatever reason decided to go into his 8 month old brother’s room and talk to him. My friend was watching on the baby monitor and said most of what he was saying was just incoherent babble, until his last sentence.

“Can you tell me about God, I’m starting to forget.”

My friend is far from religious and has never broached the subject of God with his son.

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My ex-boyfriend’s niece, an only child as far as she is concerned, when she was about 5 years old, asked why Jesus took her sister to heaven. The girl was one of a set of twins; the smaller one died during childbirth. This event turned about five people in the immediate family toward religion. The dead baby was purposefully and dutifully omitted from all thought and speech immediately following the birth. How the surviving twin had any clue really freaked out a whole group of atheists.
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My son was watching my wife make him a sandwich really intently. He was around 4-5. She asked what he was doing, to which he replied “I’m watching you make a sandwich. -Insert short pause here- So I know how to do it when you die.”
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My daughter and I woke up one morning and we usually lay there and talk for a while before we get up. I’m laying facing the wall with my back towards the door. My daughter is talking and facing me, pauses, and asks,” Mommy, who’s that?” And points behind me. I didn’t know whether to turn around or just let whoever was about to murder me do it while I wasn’t looking. I turned around and no one was there. Scariest moment of my life.

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This was two days ago - my kid is 5:
Him: “Mummy, I love you so much I wouldn’t even kill you…” Me: “That’s not a very nice thing to say!” Him: “I said I WOULDN’T kill you!”

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I’ve told this story before, but it seems to be relevant to the discussion. My daughter told me this story when she was around four years old.

(This is as close as I can remember to her exact wording, and told from her perspective)
I was with my old family that I lived with before, and they were very, very mean people. My mom was dead because they didn’t like her anymore, and my dad and brother hated me; they tied me to a chair in the basement, beat me, stuck things in me (I couldn’t get clarification on this, how the fuck does a 4 yr-old know about this kind of abuse??!) and never fed me. Sometimes I would get free and would have to eat dirt and bugs.
They let their friends do stuff to me too.
(Me:) What kind of stuff?
Bad stuff, I can’t say, but it was bad. Their friends later killed my bad dad, and bad brother, and stole me away. They chained me to their wall and threw knives at me, and burned me with sticks from their fire.
When they got tired of my crying, they held my throat until I died, then they cut me up into little tiny pieces and put me in the blender, then they found mommy and made her drink me…and that’s how I was born.
(Me:) Well, that’s quite the sadistic dream, sweetheart.
It wasn’t a dream, daddy, that’s what really happened.
There were other stories she told me about her old family, and none of them were good. It wasn’t just the stories though, it was the absolute certainty with which she told the stories, and the very matter-of-fact way in which each story was related. Still gives me chills.
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My kid’s catholic school is over 100 years old. there is a basement under the gym that’s used for storage. I was subbing once and during recess one of the kick balls goes down the stairs. A little girl was standing at the top of the stairs yelling “just throw it up to me”. I went over and asked who she was talking to and she replied “that big man down the stairs” I went down and there was nobody down there and it was the only way in.

I asked some of the other kids if they have seen the man before and they said “yes, but sister told us not to talk to him”. I asked them to describe “sister” and they described a nun and there haven’t been nuns at the school in 40 years.

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My then 2-year-old daughter used to scream in the night, and told my wife and I it was because she was visited by a lady. A few weeks later, she stopped screaming. Off handedly, I asked if the lady had stopped coming. She answered “No, she’s just nice now. Her name is Shelia. She sleeps in my bed sometimes.” A year later, my youngest daughter turned 2 and started having the same screaming fits. Talking to her, she described the same lady named “Shelia”. Skip forward 3 years. We’d never talked with our kids about it, figuring there had to be some active imaginations and sibling story telling involved. Hadn’t come up in at least 2 years. We moved with our three kids, including a 2.5 year old son. First night in the new house, he asked “Where will Shelia sleep now?”

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OK, backstory time. When I was a kid “Mr. Rand” used to come into my room 4 or 5 times a week. He’d talk to me and tell me about ‘stuff’ and how he was killed in WW2. See Ol’ mate Rand was a figment of my 4 year old imagination. Any way one day when I was 9 or so Mr. Rand stopped showing up.
Fast forward to about 3 years ago and my son, who is about 5 at the time, walks out of his room one night at about 11:30and says there’s a man in his room. I flip out And run in his room to find nobody to which he then says “Mr. Rand said you can’t see him anymore, but he’s ok!”. The kids got his own imaginary mate called Mr. Rand, but they only chat once or twice a year.
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Not my kid, but my brothers’ four year old came up to me, looked me straight in the eyes and said, very seriously: “The day I will become a grandfather, you will die”. He then turned around and continued to do stuff kids normally do.

He’s 27, single and has no kids, so I’m save for now ;-)
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Walking through a graveyard to “visit” some departed family members, we walked across the grave of a baby boy who died shortly after being born.
There’s a family relationship, so we know for a fact the mother is still alive. My 4 year old son turned to my wife and said “Why is that baby crying? Why won’t his mom hug him? Just writing about it makes me shiver.
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About a week after moving out 2 year old upstairs into her own room, my wife and I were up there playing with her and she says
“Cedric comes out to play with me when I go to bed.”
My wife asked her where he comes from, and she says “From over in the corner.”
I had recently walled off a lower section of the room (slanted ceilings) that used to have a creepy 3 foot tall door in it. She pointed right to where the door used to be.
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My son was about 4 and a half and his sister was 18 months. I said I was really sorry I wouldn’t be able to read them a story that night as I had a meeting to go to, but I would read two the following night to make up. My son said, “It’s ok, Mama, Auntie Tracy will read to us”. I felt the hairs go up on the back of my neck. I thought he must have that wrong, so said, “Who?”. He answered, “Auntie Tracy, Mama. She looks just like you. After we go to bed she reads and sings to us”. I had never told them that I was an identical twin and my sister was stillborn. Her name was Tracy.
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I was tucking my three year old son into bed the other day. We say the typical slew of I love you’s , then he just stops talking. Extremely atypical. He has maybe shut up one time since his larvae stage. So he puts his head down on his pillow, kind of pointing his face down and rolls his eyes up to look at me. His arm was down by his side, and he just points one little finger towards the rocking chair in his room, without moving his arm. He says, “Mommy, before you leave, can you take the rocking chair out of my room so the man will leave me alone?” I’m pretty sure all the color drained from my face. He then proceeds to tell me that the mans name is Johnny and he’s a bad man and very mean. Johnny doesn’t say anything though because he doesn’t have a mouth. He just sits there and stares at my son… :-/
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My first son at three years old, as he was falling asleep in the car: “Last time, I died in a fire.”.

I almost drove off the road.
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My mom told me that when I was about 4 or 5 I would sit and talk to an imaginary friend. When she asked me who I was talking to, I said it was Viola and she was teaching me how to draw. My mom flipped out because Viola was my great grandmother and she was an artist. She died nearly 20 years before I was born.

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I used to live in south Texas, on a small Navy Base in Flour Bluff. My two young boys at the time, used to wake me and my wife frequently after claiming all manners of paranormal. I won’t lie, the place was creepy as all fuck. We started finding glasses with various amounts of water inside them randomly around the house. I asked my oldest, who said it was my younger boys thing because he was helping a friend.
So me and my wife ask him, “Whats with the glasses?” To which he told us, “I leave them out for the black man. He doesn’t want to spit all his water on our floor.” My wife asks him, “Black man? Like a shadow?” The kid shakes his head no and says black like a friend of his from school, to which he adds, “Whenever he tries to speak he just coughs and spits up water.” Pretty freaky to hear from a 4 year old.
Fast forward a few years, and we are having a family discussion. We are talking about the haunted house. My sons do a bit of research. Turns out, there was a hurricane in the area in 1900. The worst hurricane America saw up until Andrew hit Florida. Thousands of people died, mostly from drowning. The government bought the land shortly after, cleaned it up and it eventually became NAS Flour Bluff. My younger still remembers seeing the water ghost, and says if he was a better artist he could draw him as easily as us. My older son just says he remembers all the noises, and telling them to stop. Only to have them start a few minutes later. We all saw shadow figures. The boys also told us the kids on their school bus would talk about their sightings, which seemed pretty frequent.
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My brother grew up being terrfied of water, i’m 4 years older than him and during the nighly battle for bathtime when he was about 3 or 4 I asked him why is so scared of the water (being a water baby as my mum put it i just didn’t understand) he looked at me and i remember this word for word ‘i was in a big unsinkable ship, we hit the biggest iceberg and then it was really busy and then I got really cold and wet I went to a warm bright place and waited until my next family came’ my mum heard it all and decided bathtime was over. creepy thing is my brother was born April 15th 1992 - the Titanic sunk April 15th 1912. he’s over his fear now and doesn’t remember it all and he’s even a swimming instructor now but it creeps me out just thinking about it. * I just mentioned it to him and he say’s he’s still scared of sea water and he’s not a fan of boats
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My 3 year old nephew was over my parents house where my dad has a military collection from WW2, and when I went to show him some of the stuff. He started crying so I asked him what’s wrong, he replied “bad memories, a lot of friends lost” so I asked him where and he continued “32 tank division in the south pacific, only tank division in the pacific theater” immediately went to the internet and he was spot on, nearly shit myself
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Not my kid, but I was at a friends house when his 4yo cousin was getting ready to go to bed. He walked around, giving everyone hugs goodnight, and I said to him “Sweet dreams.”
Then he stopped at the top of the stairs, turned around with a very serious face and said “I’ll control your dreams and make them nightmares.” A 4 YEAR OLD CHILD!! WTF?!? That shit still gives me the chills.

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Sitting at my friends kitchen table late one night talking when her daughter walks into the kitchen “mommy, when I was older I crashed the car and died. Can I have something to drink?” My friend calmly gave her daughter milk and sent her off to bed. It gave me shivers and my friend didn’t want to talk about it. She started crying and told me not to bring it up ever.
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My boyfriend’s 4 year old son was quietly sitting in the kitchen eating popcorn by himself while I was in the living room READING THIS FUCKING THREAD. The child then quietly says “I’ll never let you see your family again” I asked him what he just said, since I did not want to believe what I just heard him mutter. Instead of repeating himself, he slowly turns his head to look at me and whispers “That’s just the way it has to be”
WHAT IN ALL THE FUCKS

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I was babysitting a while ago for a girl that had some sort of mental block; when she was born she didn’t get enough oxygen so she was behind a lot of her classmates and just acted weirdly. Anyway, when I came over for the first time, she asked where I had parked my car, and I pointed out the window to the van which was across the street. She looked at me and said, “Go to it without looking both ways.” I asked her why and she said “I want to see someone die.”

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My 10 yr old niece was sleeping over at my parents, one night. She had all the lights on in the spare bedroom. I asked her if she was afraid of the dark, and she said no. “I am afraid of what is in the dark.”

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I joined Reddit JUST so I could share this! When I was 9 years old, my aunt had a miscarriage. During my teenage years, she had two children who were 4 years apart. One day when her oldest son was 2 or 3 years old, he said to her “Are you happy I came back, mommy? I went to heaven but you were sad, so I came back to you.” I get chills to this day just thinking about it!

All of these stories make me feel so peaceful about the after life… cannot stop reading!

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Just happened the other day. My 8 year old daughter.
“My pet zombie murdered me today at school. My funeral is tomorrow at recess.”

My cousin was thrown out of a preschool for taking off his shoe and telling a nun: “Shut up or I’ll take out your eye with my shoe ‘cause I’m the son of the devil.” Apparently that was the last straw.

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When my oldest was about 3 years old I had a really weird dream where an alien was trying to take my son. I was lying in bed watching this alien take him by the hand and started taking off towards the window. When I went to scream I woke up. Here is the creepy part….I wake up to find my 3 year old turning on the night light in our room. He turns to look at me and says “oh, its ok mommy. The alien is gone.” …..I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

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So a friend of mine was six years old when she told her mother that “the lady who use to live here told me that she hates the wallpaper” and that “you are covering her note”. My friends mom just thought it was make believe rambling and forgot about it. Well, twelve years later when the mom is redecorating and taking down the wallpaper in the attic, she finds a suicide note scratched into the wall. The mom freaks the fuck out and calls my friend and starts crying asking if she remembered anything more about the women who spoke to her. My friend starts to recall the woman and starts to freak out saying she only remembered talking to her in the attic.

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I have a three year old who says some pretty strange stuff….
Last night: “Mommy.. the man, the very big man with big yellow eyes is looking at you.”
I look.. nothing. I tell him there is no man and he is make-believe. My son laughs, “Oh he is hiding now.” —- 2 minutes later, “Oh no Mommy, you made him very mad. Now he says he will come when you are sleeping.”
Few weeks ago he tells me, “I’m not going to be four. I’m doing to die. And you will put me down, down, down in the hole.” I tell him that isn’t true, and who told him that. He gets quiet and goes, “The man told me. But I will be scared, so after three night-nights you die too and come with me.”
Sheesh. As if I didn’t have bad dreams already.

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My older sister was born the year my Dad’s mom died. According to my dad, as soon as my sister was old enough to say the words, she said “I am your mother.”

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When my little sister first started talking she used to say some really disturbing things. She used to tell us about how her old family would put things inside of her and would make her cry but her Daddy eventually burned her so much that she was able to find us, her new family. She spoke about things like that from the ages of almost two to four, she was much too young to have ever been exposed to any content where children, or anyone else could be sodomized, so my family has always thought she held memories of a prior life.

[Reply to previous comment]
I have a similar story. Well, not in the way but in the afterlife sense.
Between the ages of two and six my son would tell me the same story of how he picked me to be his mother. He said something about being with a man in a suit and picking a mother that would help him accomplish his souls mission (I’m atheist, so we didn’t discuss spirituality at that point, nor was he raised in any sort of religious environment). The way he described it was that it was similar to grocery shopping, that he was in a bright room with people who were lined up like dolls, and that he picked me. The man in the suit asked him if he was sure, he replied that he was, and then he was born.
My son also had an early fascination with WWII era planes. He could identify them, their parts, what region they were used in and the like. I still have no idea where he got that information. I’m a science gal, his dad is a math guy.
We have always called him “Grandpa” because of his peaceful and gingerly demeanor. This kid seriously has an old soul.

[Reply to previous comment]

OH.MY.GOD. My nephew when he first began really talking in sentences told my sister and her husband that he was “so happy he picked them”. And then went on to say that before he was a baby he was in a bright room and saw lots of people and he “picked his Mom because she had a nice face”.
Holy crap.

[Reply to previous comment]

My son said he picked me because he said I looked kind!

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When my little sister was younger she used to walk around the house with a picture frame with a picture of my great grandpa in her hands crying and saying “I miss you Harvey.” Harvey had died before even I was born. Other than this common occurrence my mom told me that she would constantly say things that my great grandma Lucy would say.
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I don’t know if this is relevant but here’s something I had said when I was a youngster.
When I was about 5ish my dads cousin shot his 7 year old son and then shot himself (his wife filed for divorce and wanted custody of their son and he went crazy). Well after this happened my dad and his brothers had to clean out their cousins house. Since I was the youngest one at the time they all decided, “Oh! Jess should get this dead child’s toys! That’s great!”
So I ended up with one of those Little Tikes outdoor play castle. You know the one that was like a little plastic castle tower and you could sit inside? Sucha cool fort.
Anyway, The one day I was sitting inside the tower part and my mom was on the deck and she heard me talking to myself. So she comes over and asks who I’m talking to this time (I had a lot of imaginary friends). I told her I was talking to the little boy whose castle it was and told him not to cry because my mommy could be his mommy. My mom promptly had my dad throw the castle out.
TL;DR - I told my mom that a dead little boy would be her child now too.

Edit - Here’s another fun part of the story! When my dad was packing the boys stuffed animals and stuff into his truck to bring them for donation, he heard a little boys voice say, “What are you doing with my toys?” Now my dad is the manliest man I’ve ever met and he said that he got freaked out by the voice because it was so clear. You’d think this would be a good sign to not give me any of his toys.
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I heard a five year-old literally refer to her mother as a “glassy-eyed, slack-jawed troglodyte!” during a tantrum in a doctor’s waiting room once.
I couldn’t help but start laughing, and she gave me a dirty look.
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I was tucking my 3-year-old son into bed and asking what was his favorite part of the day… Son: “It was playing with that man.” Me: “What man?” Son: “THAT man” <points to empty corner of his bedroom…which is on the upstairs floor of our old house>

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My wife was getting my 2yr old son up one morning. He was standing in his bed/crib. As she said good morning and walked over to him he picked up her shirt a little and crooked his head to the side. She asked him what he was doing and he said, “looking for my baby sister in your tummy.” She laughed it off as a weird kid imagination thing. We found out later that at the time she was 2 weeks pregnant and it was, in fact, a girl. We are due in September. We had never really had the talk about where babies come from nor did we talk about having another child at all around him. So spooky.
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When my daughter was around 4 or 5, we lived in a house that had been converted into three separate apartments. We lived in the basement portion. Because of the way they converted the house there was a small recessed area under one of the stairways that formed a small closet/storage space in her room. One night while she was getting ready for bed I overheard her talking to someone in her room. I poked my head in and asked if she was calling for me. Her words - “No. I was talking to the little boy who lives in my closet… He’s dead.” Insta-chills.

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When I was young, like maybe two years old, my grandma was in the hospital, dying of cancer. Obviously i had no idea what was going on, but apparently one day when my mother and aunt were watching me, I suddenly looked at them and said “Only one Grandma”
They kept trying to convince me otherwise, that no, i had two grandmas, but I kept repeating that line over and over.
Then the phone rang. It was my uncle calling to tell my mother that my grandma had passed a few minutes ago.

[Reply to previous comment]

My brother had a similar experience as a child. We had gone to visit my grandparents earlier in the day and everything was fine. When it was time to go to bed my brother, he was about 5 at the time, started crying and saying he wanted to “talk to Papa because he’s sick”. My mom and dad kept assuring him that he was fine as we were just over there earlier in the day. My brother wouldn’t stop screaming so my mom called my grandparents. My grandma was awake and said my grandpa was asleep but she decided to take the phone into his room so he could talk to my grandpa. When she went in to the room my grandpa was unresponsive and had just had a heart attack. Fortunately for him my psycho brother knew somehow and he was able to survive. That was 23 years ago and my grandpa just passed 2 years ago.

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When I was about 3 or 4 I would tell my dad stories about how I was good friends with his grandfather. I provided names and traits that had never been said around me before. I also claimed to have ghost brothers who were buried in a cemetery we often drove past.

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A few months ago my 3 year old daughter had the flu. After she was feeling a little better my wife took her outside in our backyard to play.
My wife was sitting on the back step and my daughter came up and asked her if she could play with the little girl on our slide.
My wife said ” I don’t see a little girl” and my daughter said “she is right over there on the slide mom, can’t I play with her?”
My wife said “I don’t see anyone” and my daughter insisted, “she is on the slide, and she is blue, can I play with her.”
My wife, now freaked out said “lets go inside and make a snack” so they did.
For the rest of the day my daughter kept going and looking out the back door and kept telling my wife that the little blue girl was lonely.

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Buckling my 5 year old into her car seat she told me she had a dream that we got in a car accident and she was “all red” and mommy had to come get her. I asked where I was, she said at the hospital and mommy was crying.
Yeah, I drove slow that day. FTR, I have not been in a car accident since before my daughter was born, I have no clue where she got this context.

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Is there room for a freaky paranormal one?
My mum’s dad died 10 years before I was born. I was about 6 or 7 when my parents divorced. The day before my mum told me they were divorcing apparently I was at the kitchen table drawing or something while my mum cooked tea. She says I stopped instantly and looked toward the front door as if I’d heard it open. I stared for a long time, then giggled, turned toward my mum and said “Grand-dad says don’t worry, everything will be okay and he won’t let anything bad happen.” I then began humming and went back to my drawing. My mum says it’s the single creepiest thing that’s ever happened to her, and I have no memory of it happening.

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My Boss had two daughters one of which died very young in life due to a medical condition, she passed away in her early twenties. Anyways the family found it easier to not keep picture up of her or really discuss her as their way of mourning. Anyways the other sister had five children and on a quite frequent basis one of her little girls at a very young age would say she was playing with her imaginary friend Lisa, which is also the name of the deceased sister. Not too much was paid attention to that fact until one day she also added that her friend was her Aunt, and she visited her quite frequently. The little girl had never been exposed to the fact that she had a Aunt and she had passed away before she was born nor had she been told her name. I am close to the family and when I heard that story it freaked me out.

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Not a parent, but when I was eight I asked my mother what it was like to die and when she told me she didn’t know I told her not to worry because I’d find out when I was twenty-one.

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I don’t have kids of my own yet, but my little brother did something that creeps me out to this day. He was around 3 when it happened. My mom called me from my room to grab her a towel so that she could keep an eye on both of my little brothers that were playing in the tub. I had grabbed the towel and was just walking into the bathroom when my three year old brother, who normally had that adorable broken little kid speech suddenly sat up straight in the tub, cocked his head and said in the most serious pronunciated voice “look mom, I can’t die!”. He had crossed his arms over his chest and slid underwater. It took a second for me and my mom to react, but she pulled him out pretty quick. He had inhaled a bunch of water and was crying, but he was ok. So fast-forward a couple of years, we were replacing the trim in my little brothers’ room that was adjacent to the bathroom. We were tearing down the trim in their closet that adjoined to my parents room, and we found an old penciled height chart on the wall where the trim was. There was only one kid named “Alan”, and the height chart stopped at the age of five. The old lady that had owned the house before us had sold it to us so she could help take care of her husband in an assisted living home. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that they were the first owners of the house and had never had kids. So we did some some research, and (thanks to the public library’s amazing newspaper archive) found an article from the 1950’s stating that the old couple had, indeed, had a kid. He had drowned in the tub in the same bathroom my little brother had his episode in. The conclusion in the paper followed somewhere along the lines that his mom wasn’t supervising him in the bathroom when he had stood up in the tub, slipped, and hit his head His name was Alan. I refused to even go in my parents bathroom after that.

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I was 6 when I first went to my Grandmas house in Iowa. She lived in this really old Victorian style house. It was incredibly nice though. Hand carved wood on the staircase, chandelier in the dining room, amazing fire place set up in the living room, I’m sure you get the idea. I remember having to share “The White Room” with my little sister for the week we were staying. Here I was was thinking ” Oh great, I’m going to be sleeping in a river ” but those were the least of my worries when it came to the 2nd or 3rd night. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and looking around the room and then to the door. There was this woman standing outside the door, watching me and my sister sleep. I remember she was dressed in white. She wasn’t transparent though, she was made out of this bright light and had this glow to her. Even though I could tell she was harmless, I was scared out of my mind and quickly hid my sister and myself under the covers. She was leaning against the door frame and had her head rested on her arm. Something about her seemed Motherly, how a Mother would watch her children sleep. When I told my Dad and my Grandma what I saw the next morning, my Dad immediately looks at her, points his finger at her from across the table and goes “HA!”. I discussed this with my dad when I was 19 and he said that when he grew up in that house he would see her in the hall way, dining room or sitting in the white room. ( Thanks for putting me in that room for a week, asshole) He said his Mom never believed him until 20 something years later when I said something.

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My little sister used to talk to herself a lot when she was around 4. My dad asked her who she was talking to and she said it was a little boy and gave a description. He figured it was just an imaginary friend so he ignored it. A few months later he was reading her a book about the history of the town and she stopped on a page with a family and pointed to the youngest boy and said “I know him! That’s the boy I’ve been playing with! Flipped to the next page, picture of our house. The kid died there.
When she was turning six and had to make a wish blowing out the candles she went from happy and excited to stoic and said in a flat voice “I wish… Everyone was dead.” Then blew out the candles.

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Told my son it was time to go to sleep.
“But the ghost isn’t here yet!”
…is there usually a ghost that you go to sleep with?
“Yeah”
Ok, we’ll just sit here and wait.
After 30 seconds of watching tv, he looks to the door like he hears something, turns back to me, grins, hops off my lap and walks to his bed.
He’s 3.

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Not my child but my husband’s nephew…he was I guess around 2 ½ or 3, still using baby-talk. His parents took him to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which has a great hall filled with medieval and other types/eras of knight’s armor. when they entered the hall the nephew - in a “different” voice - clearly said: “oh, brave knights! I survived this.” He then immediately went back to baby-talking.
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My wife and I joked that we had a ghost cat in our house because at times we’d feel padding on the bed only to look up and see our cats snoozing across the room. We figured it was just the sheets settling. My three year old nephew would occasionally come over and play with our two cats. One day at a restaurant he saw a picture of our cats on my wife’s phone and said “where’s the yellow one?”, my wife replied that we didn’t have a yellow cat, only a black one and a white one. He looked at us like we were pulling his leg and laughed. My wife said “Dylan, how many cats do we have?” and he looked her straight in the eye and said “three, a yellow one, a black one and a white one!”

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Not any relation to me, but I used to go to this family run comic book shop. The owner who I was close friends with had a few kids the oldest of which was about 5 or 6 at the time. Some of my friends and I had just moved the shop to a new location in the historical part of the city. We were putting some stuff in the finished basement. There was a door that lead to an unfinished tunnel that went on for a very long time. It was very old and dark and creepy with a single light bulb. My friend’s son says, “That’s where the ghosts live” and his father said “There’s no ghosts in there!” The kid just looks at his father, stone cold serious and replies, “They’re in there…you just can’t see ‘em…” My friend and I looked at each other and chuckled nervously.
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I was tucking in my two year old. He said “Good bye dad.” I said, “No, we say good night.” He said “I know. But this time its good bye.”
Had to check on him a few times to make sure he was still there.

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My five year old son asked me last week “what do you see through the black circles in my eyes when you’re controlling me when I’m at school?

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My 5 year old at the time had night terrors and would scream in her sleep. One night I said ‘mama’s here its okay’. She looked right at me still asleep and screamed ‘mama? But who is that behind you?

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My three-year-old daughter stood next to her new born brother and looked at him for a while then turned and looked at me and said, ‘Daddy, it’s a monster we should bury it.

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I jokingly asked: “What’s the best way to get a girlfriend?”
7-year-old’s response: “Tell her to be my girlfriend or she’ll never see her parents again”.

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My younger cousin (around 5 at the time) once drew a picture of a a black monster, looked up at me, and said “He told me to draw this. He’s coming for you. You better hide.

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A friend of mine’s child told him “Daddy, I love you so much that I want to cut your head off and carry it around so I can see your face whenever I want.

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My 2 ½ year old daughter told me the other night that she drowned. Very simply and matter-of-fact, she said “I died. I drowned one time and died Mommy. The water was very dark Mommy. I yelled and screamed and no one came. No one could hear me and I called and called, and went down and down. No one came ’cause they couldn’t hear me, and then I died.

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My daughter said to me that there is a woman who watches her watch movies in her room and sleeps on the ceiling above her bed when she sleeps. She also says it does not like me and wants to eat my heart.

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While changing my daughter in front of the open closet door. She kept looking around me and laughing. I asked her what was so funny. She said, “the man.” To which I replied, “what man?” She then pointed at the closet and said, “the man with the snake neck.” I turn around and nothing was there. I’m afraid to look into the history of my house to see if anyone hung themselves in the closet. At least she wasn’t scared.

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Not to me, but to his grandmother.
He was cuddling with her and being very sweet (he was about 3 at the time). He takes her face in his hands, and brings his face close to hers, then tells her that she’s very old, and will die soon.
Then he makes a point of looking at the clock.

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I was on a bus recently and we were stopped outside a walk-in clinic. A little girl in the seat in front of me turned to her dad and said, “Death is the poor man’s doctor.” And that was that.

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“Daddy, remember that time we died?”

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My niece said something like this to my mom once. When she was about 3 she said “Remember when I used to be your grandmom?”

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Why are you crying?
“Bad man”
What bad man?
“There.” Points behind me at a dark corner of the room
Lamp on bookshelf next to said darkened corner falls off as soon as I turn to look.
She slept in our bed that night
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“So I shouldn’t throw him in the fire?”
3 year old daughter holding her baby brother for the first time.

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My father tells me this story of my childhood every once in a while:

When I was around six years old, my dad’s best friend committed suicide. We’ll call him “Joe” for the sake of the story. Obviously, it was a very rough and emotional time for my dad. Joe was my dad’s best man at his wedding, the one guy who was always there for him. After my dad got married, he and my mother left Joe and the town they were in to start a life outside of the town they grew up in. After years of moving around California, my family eventually moved to Utah, where my father worked for a successful internet business. Joe stayed behind in Washington. Because my family were so far away from their old life with Joe, there wasn’t a lot of foresight/warning that Joe intended on ending his own life.

Joe’s sister apparently had been blaming Joe’s wife for her brothers suicide. Joe and his wife drank a lot of booze, and probably as a result, fought a lot. My father always said that they were a passionate couple; yes, they would fight often, but he hardly knew two other individuals who were so completely in love. For this reason, he didn’t believe it.
A few days after Joe committed suicide, his widow called up my father sobbing about how she thought it was her fault. After about an hour of trying to console her, he told her “If there was a way for me to talk to Joe now, I guarantee you that he would tell you that he loved you, and that it wasn’t your fault that he ended his life.” Crying, she still didn’t believe him, but she thanked him for the kind words and let my father go.
My dad was obviously distraught after that long, hysteric conversation. He had been down in his office for a while, and he decided to come up and check on his kids while making a pot of coffee to take his mind off of things. We were all supposed to be napping, but he thought he’d peek his head into our rooms to make sure we were safe/maybe try to have a little smile or brightness added to his day.
Sure enough, when my dad got to my room, I was fast asleep on my bed. He went to my brother’s room, and he was also sleeping. Finally, he checks on my sister, who is sleeping as smugly as an angel. He decides to go back towards my room and into the kitchen to make some coffee.
As he walks by my room, he notices a whimper. He turns around, and enters my room, where he finds me weeping. I was five years old, so the way I was crying seemed odd to him. Normally a five year old would cry drastically over dramatically. I wasn’t. I was just sitting on the side of my bed, weeping.
My dad enters my room and says “Matty, whats up? Why are you crying?”
It’s then that I stop crying for a moment, look up at him with teary eyes and say “Rick, it’s not her fault. I love her. It’s not her fault.”
With that, I stopped crying, rolled over back onto my bed, and fell swiftly back to sleep.
Needless to say, my dad shit his pants.
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Getting my two and a half year old daughter out of the bath one night, my wife and I were briefing her on how important it was she kept her privates clean. She casually replied “Oh, nobody ‘scroofs’ me there. They tried one night. They kicked the door in and tried but I fought back. I died and now I’m here.” She said this like it was nothing.
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When I was a little girl I lost my shit when I saw some guy at the grocery store, it was unusual because I was generally quiet and well behaved. I never had to be taken out of somewhere for misbehaving, but we had to leave the store. When my mom asked what was wrong when we got in the car, I told her he took me away from my first mom and hid me under his floor and made me sleep for a long time until I woke up with my new mom. I then refused to sit in the seat of the car on the ride home, but insisted on cowering under the dash board so he couldn’t take me again. It freaked her the fuck out, as she is definitely my biological mother so obviously my “first” mom.

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When I was about 3 we had a cat that had still born kittens. I asked my father if we could make crosses for them, which he did. As he was making them I asked: “aren’t those too small?”,
Dad: “What do you Mean?”
Me: “aren’t we going to nail them to them?”
Dad: (after several moments silence) “we’re not going to do that”
Me: “oh”

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My 3 year old nephew was at my cottage. He’s asked me numerous times about the “girl over there” while pointing at one of the back bedrooms. The place is small, and there is definitely nobody there so I just dismiss it as a really active imagination (he has lots of imaginary friends).
Then some friends are visiting and they have a daughter around the same age. She has never met my nephew. Twice in the one day she asked about the “pretty girl” while pointing at the exact same room. Definitely caught me out and I didn’t know what to think.
Then at Christmas my family was over at my place and my nephew points at a picture of my wife and asks if she is coming to visit us here or does she just stay at the cottage. My wife died ten years ago. Personally I don’t really believe in paranormal stuff so it’s probably just my logical brain putting together a bunch of kids ramblings but it definitely got my attention.

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5 year old: “Mommy, when you die I want to put you in a glass jar so I can keep you and see you forever”
To which the 6 year old responds: “That’s stupid. Where are you gonna find a jar that big?”

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When I was about 4, I would remember talking to “Mr.Peterson” whenever I was at my grandmothers house. He looked like a hobo from the great depression and had a guitar and sang me old timey blues, he told me that he died when he fell of a train he was riding whist drunk on moonshine. I stopped seeing him when I was about 6.
Anyway, 6 months ago I found my dads old acoustic guitar and started playing, and my little cousin told me “Mr.Peterson is proud of you!” And left.

I dont know what to think.

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When my son was little he, maybe 3, he used to do this weird crawl where he would slide his forehead along the floor. That was pretty creepy in itself. Then one night he crawled across the hallway into my room like that and stood up a few inches from my face and made a weird meow sound. He got into bed with me and went to sleep. Another time he was freaking out about a monster in the basement so we went down and saw nothing, of course, and as I turned out the light and headed upstairs and he said “Hes right behind us now.” I might have peed a little. Possibly the creepiest thing he did was one day I scolded him for misbehaving so he hid his head under his blanket. I pretended I couldn’t find him by saying “Where is my little Carson?” He slowly lowered the blanket and with a dead evil stare said, “Carson is gone, I am Rick.” I’m certain he’s possessed. We never knew any Ricks, as far I can remember. Still don’t. Never figured out where he picked up the name.

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My noticeably pregnant sister and I were having a conversation at the dining room table. My 4 year old son was also present and asked my sister if there was a baby in her belly. She affirmed. He, completely straight faced, slid from his chair and headed for the kitchen saying “We need to get it out. I’ll go get the knife. ” I don’t even know…

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“Go back to sleep, there isn’t anything under your bed”.
“Hes behind you now”.
Still haven’t gotten over that one and shiver at the memory.

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“Before I was born here, I had a sister, right? Her and my other Mom are so old now. They were ok when the car was on fire, but I sure wasn’t!”

He was maybe 5 or 6 years old? It was totally out of the blue..

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My mom has told me a story about my brother when he was younger. I guess he was sleepwalking and she was trying to coax him back to bed and he said something along the lines of “I would but the devil is behind you.” Yeah, noo.

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My mom likes to tell this story: Apparently when I was 5 or 6 I told her that aliens had stolen her real son, and replaced him with me, an exact copy. Someday, I would return to my home planet. But she shouldn’t be sad, because her real son had a good life in our zoo.

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A good friend of mine and her husband bought what is considered an 'old’ house around here. (Western Canada…not many houses over 100 years old). They were renovating the basement one day while I was visiting. I was down there alone with their son, who was barely 2 at the time, and could not yet speak in full sentences. He took my hand and led me over to a brick chimney-like thing thing, with a rusty metal door on it. He looked up and said 'That’s where the dead babies go.’
I was horrified. Firstly, because, like I said, the kid could barely talk, let alone say something like that. I doubt he even knew what 'dead’ meant. I’m positive that no one would have told him that, and there were no older kids around that would have said that as a joke. Still creeps me out to this day.

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My co-worker’s four year old daughter always thought that the rattling of the water pipes in the kitchen cupboards were “white wolves” and the sound always scared her.
One day she was sitting at the kitchen table and she said, “Mom. The white wolves aren’t bad… they’re our friends!”
Her mom encouraged the idea by saying, “Yes! The white wolves are protecting us. They are our friends.”
Then her daughter added in, “They’re our friends, but not the man who crawls on the floor and stands by my bed”.

I find it strange that people are complaining about all the salt inspired by the last two chapters in Erwin/Eruri enthusiasts.

Listen. We’ve had to deal with Erwin hate that’s been backed up by baseless reasons for YEARS, and now when we complain about EM for how they’ve literally not spared a thought for Humanity and attacked a superior despite WILLINGLY having joined the SC, the fandom is suddenly asking for the salt to subside?

Like, ha ha, are you even for real? That’s just going to add more salt to everything.

People in this fandom are so anti-Black towards Rhodey, Sam, Nick, Trip, and Mack that they aren’t even aware it’s happening because they pay so little attention to them. 

Selfish

“I feel like letting people getting attached to me is the most selfish thing I’ll ever do. I’m a fucking mess, every day, all day. There’s no poetic way of putting it. I destroy myself and put myself back together and spend so long inside my head I sometimes think I’ll end up driving myself insane. I am too cold and too guarded and I flinch at the mention of the word "love” because with love comes hurt and I’m already broken enough as it is.
But then, one night at three am, I’ll break down crying because I held it in for way longer than I should have, and I’ll need you to let me stain your shirt and swear that everything will be okay.
And I’ll believe you. I’ll want you to kiss it away all night and when you’re done and we’re left a naked mess in the aftermath, I’ll need to you to listen to me spill all my secrets and darkest fears and watch you promise me you’ll stay regardless. And when you hold me in your arms, I’ll hold you even tighter because as it turns out… I am a selfish creature.“ - thoughts I’ll never say out loud #2