Blair Bathory

Despite it being the middle of summer, and in front of her, so close I swear I saw its breath ruffle her hair, stood a shadow. It was grinning. I ran, straight down the stairs, straight out of the house. I waited for my dad to get home before we went back inside. I just pretended like I had been playing out there. When we went inside, my mom was in the bathroom, cleaning deep cuts on her hands.

Despite it being the middle of summer, and in front of her, so close I swear I saw its breath ruffle her hair, stood a shadow. It was grinning. I ran, straight down the stairs, straight out of the house. I waited for my dad to get home before we went back inside. I just pretended like I had been playing out there. When we went inside, my mom was in the bathroom, cleaning deep cuts on her hands.

Despite it being the middle of summer, and in front of her, so close I swear I saw its breath ruffle her hair, stood a shadow. It was grinning. I ran, straight down the stairs, straight out of the house. I waited for my dad to get home before we went back inside. I just pretended like I had been playing out there. When we went inside, my mom was in the bathroom, cleaning deep cuts on her hands.

Mama, are you okay? She smiled. Mama's fine. Just hurt my hands. Later, I found out the truth. She had been clutching something glass and it had turned to powder in her palm. For five years, we lived like that. The house never let up until we finally moved. For the first time in years, the air felt lighter and my mother seemed better, although she was different.

Mama, are you okay? She smiled. Mama's fine. Just hurt my hands. Later, I found out the truth. She had been clutching something glass and it had turned to powder in her palm. For five years, we lived like that. The house never let up until we finally moved. For the first time in years, the air felt lighter and my mother seemed better, although she was different.

Mama, are you okay? She smiled. Mama's fine. Just hurt my hands. Later, I found out the truth. She had been clutching something glass and it had turned to powder in her palm. For five years, we lived like that. The house never let up until we finally moved. For the first time in years, the air felt lighter and my mother seemed better, although she was different.

When I was 14, I finally asked my mother about the house. It had been so long I couldn't remember details, only the sense of dread. My mom sat me down and sighed. You're old enough to know now, she said. That house, it had spirits. They attacked the women who lived there, made them aggressive, dangerous. The husbands always left, or worse. I stared at her. So that's why you like that?

When I was 14, I finally asked my mother about the house. It had been so long I couldn't remember details, only the sense of dread. My mom sat me down and sighed. You're old enough to know now, she said. That house, it had spirits. They attacked the women who lived there, made them aggressive, dangerous. The husbands always left, or worse. I stared at her. So that's why you like that?

When I was 14, I finally asked my mother about the house. It had been so long I couldn't remember details, only the sense of dread. My mom sat me down and sighed. You're old enough to know now, she said. That house, it had spirits. They attacked the women who lived there, made them aggressive, dangerous. The husbands always left, or worse. I stared at her. So that's why you like that?

She nodded, her hands trembling. I'm so sorry I wasn't a better mother. I forgave her, because the thing in that house, it wasn't her. We still drive past it sometimes when we visit Florida. The house looks different now. The new owners changed the color, added a porch. But every time we pass, I swear I see someone standing in my old bedroom window, watching, waiting.

She nodded, her hands trembling. I'm so sorry I wasn't a better mother. I forgave her, because the thing in that house, it wasn't her. We still drive past it sometimes when we visit Florida. The house looks different now. The new owners changed the color, added a porch. But every time we pass, I swear I see someone standing in my old bedroom window, watching, waiting.

She nodded, her hands trembling. I'm so sorry I wasn't a better mother. I forgave her, because the thing in that house, it wasn't her. We still drive past it sometimes when we visit Florida. The house looks different now. The new owners changed the color, added a porch. But every time we pass, I swear I see someone standing in my old bedroom window, watching, waiting.

I hope the new woman in the house is strong enough. I hope she sees the signs before it's too late. Because once you let it in, it never really leaves you. Can a place really change someone? Or do the things that haunt us always come from within? Did you ever have an imaginary friend?

I hope the new woman in the house is strong enough. I hope she sees the signs before it's too late. Because once you let it in, it never really leaves you. Can a place really change someone? Or do the things that haunt us always come from within? Did you ever have an imaginary friend?

I hope the new woman in the house is strong enough. I hope she sees the signs before it's too late. Because once you let it in, it never really leaves you. Can a place really change someone? Or do the things that haunt us always come from within? Did you ever have an imaginary friend?

This week's podcast stories were edited by Sarah Lukasiewicz, narration by Blair Bathory, audio edited and mixed by Fitz Harris, additional audio editing by Calvin Linderman, produced by Anna Villalobos, executive produced by Gil Gilman, music by Sapphire Sandalo and Calvin Linderman.

This week's podcast stories were edited by Sarah Lukasiewicz, narration by Blair Bathory, audio edited and mixed by Fitz Harris, additional audio editing by Calvin Linderman, produced by Anna Villalobos, executive produced by Gil Gilman, music by Sapphire Sandalo and Calvin Linderman.

This week's podcast stories were edited by Sarah Lukasiewicz, narration by Blair Bathory, audio edited and mixed by Fitz Harris, additional audio editing by Calvin Linderman, produced by Anna Villalobos, executive produced by Gil Gilman, music by Sapphire Sandalo and Calvin Linderman.

If you have a story you'd like to submit, send me an email at somethingscaryatsnarled.com Don't forget to watch the video version of Something Scary over at youtube.com slash snarled. And if you'd like to support the show and everything we do at Snarled, join our Patreon at patreon.com slash snarled.

If you have a story you'd like to submit, send me an email at somethingscaryatsnarled.com Don't forget to watch the video version of Something Scary over at youtube.com slash snarled. And if you'd like to support the show and everything we do at Snarled, join our Patreon at patreon.com slash snarled.