People Share The Creepiest Unexplainable Things That Have Ever Happened To Them (30 Stories)

Most of us have a few stories to tell of things that we’re sure happened to us, but don’t have any rational explanation. It can be fascinating to speculate about what really happened, but more fascinating still, whether we believe in the supernatural or not, to just accept that there’s no way to find out. Someone on r/AskReddit posted this call for people’s best stories of times they experienced a “glitch in the matrix,” or a moment when reality just didn’t check out, and reading the thread is a journey down a rabbit hole.

Here are stories from people who either made contact with some things beyond the world of the living, got a premonition of a serious real-life crime or accident, or had all of their senses deceive them.


My friend Sarah was in a nightclub, drunk off her face, when she got an overwhelming urge to tell a total stranger that her leg hurts (edit: it didn’t). All a bit strange, she ignores it but it doesn’t stop so she walks up to this guy and says, ‘I know this is crazy but I’ve got a huge urge to tell you my leg hurts. I know that’s crazy, again! Sorry!’

But he bursts into tears. Turns out his dad had just died and they made a pact before that if there was an afterlife he would get a message to him saying a totally random phrase, so there could be no mistakes, which they decided was ‘I’ve hurt my leg.’


I have a good one.

I was about 12 years old, and woke up in the middle of the night needing to take a leak.

I walked across the hall to the little bathroom, hit the lights, and was about to reach for the toilet when I glanced up and saw a face in the mirror.

It was not my face.

It was as if someone was on the other side, standing to the right, with their face right next to the glass, staring at me. I only saw it for the briefest moment, but it is seared into my brain.

I screamed, and ran out of there to find my Dad. Of course, my dad investigated, then calmed me down, or tried to. Eventually we had a prayer session, because I was so freaked out. Eventually I must have gone back to sleep…

Fast forward to my 30s. I’d forgotten all about the event. One night while visiting, my dad quietly brings it up. “Remember that one time you saw a face in the mirror…”. It suddenly came back to me in a rush of memory, sending a chill down my spine. “Yea, I remember”

“Well…” he said, “I sometimes think about that night.” He looked down at the floor, with a serious expression. “I saw it too.”

He went on to describe exactly what I’d seen. We have no idea what that was. Apparently when he investigated, he saw it and had a freak out of his own. Apparently the prayer session was as much for his own nerves as mine.

I respect him for keeping that tidbit from me till my thirties, but I kinda wish he’d never told me.

Many close encounters can be explained by false memories⁠—that is, when information that you learn after something happens influences you to recontextualize or even imagine more details to what happened before or during the event, recreating it so clearly that it blends into your memories.

For example, the pall that a death or accident casts over your memory of the day that it happened could influence you to believe that you had a foreboding feeling that something was wrong, or that a coincidence that happened earlier that day was warning you of what was to come.


This just happened today.

My daughter (4) was playing in her room on the second story. I was two rooms away, playing my guitar. Very loudly, I heard my daughter screaming “daddy come to the guest bedroom, I want to show you something!” This immediately seemed off. We have an extra bedroom, but I had never heard her call it that before. While she also has pretty good speech, this was amazingly clear.

When I walked around the corner, into the bedroom to see what she wanted, I saw two little legs sliding out the window. I jumped across the room, and grabbed my daughter by her ankle before she could fall out.

After a not great moment where I yelled at her, then hugged her, then yelled again, then apologized for yelling and hugged her, I finally calmed down. We had a talk about why we don’t play in windows. While I was putting the window back together (she had pushed and popped out the storm and screen window from the bottom) I asked her what she wanted to show me.


“What do you want to show me? You asked me to come see something”

“No I didn’t daddy.”

“Are you sure? You told me to come to the guest bedroom.”

(A little whiny now, and annoyed) “No I didn’t daddy!”

“You didn’t ask me to come to the ‘guest bedroom’ to see something?”




I once clocked out of work at 6pm (like I always did at the time) and began my hour long train ride home.

After I had found a seat, I went to sleep and woke up just before my station. From the station, it is a short bus journey (10-15 minutes) to reach home.

During the entire journey, I didn’t use my phone and I don’t wear a watch so I didn’t really notice the time anywhere.

When I reached home, my family surprised me with “You’re home early, everything alright?”. I look at the wall-clock and it is about to be 6pm. I was too shocked to understand what happened. Checked other watches, cellphones etc and the time is absolutely right.

A few days later, the admin emailed us the timesheets for the month (times clocking in and out), and every single days for me was around the same 6pm. So it certainly wasn’t me having left work earlier.

To this date, I haven’t figured out how I gained between 60-90 minutes that day.


1985. My ex wife and I were sleeping. There was a small sliver of light coming in through the window from a streetlight, so the room and bed were dimly visible. Our black Pomeranian was at the end of the bed asleep.

I dreamt that I woke up, reached down to pet him, and he turned into a glossy black bivalve/oyster thing which opened up to reveal rows of gleaming glass teeth. I woke up to my ex backpedalling up the bed over the pillows towards the wall.

I asked “what’s wrong??” She said, “what is that shiny black clam thing with the teeth at the end of the bed?? Where’s the dog?”

We had had the same nightmare at the same time. This still gives me a chill.

The effect can be even stronger when there’s more than one person there to back it up. This happens so often in relation to history and pop culture that it has come to be called “the Mandela effect” (named after the belief that Nelson Mandela died and his funeral was broadcast on TV in the 80s, decades before he actually died in 2013) when people who misremember a public event the same way compare their memories and are certain that with so many witnesses, it must have happened.

It’s not surprising that a smaller version of this could happen if you and a friend go through something harrowing together and then try to get your story straight.


One day when I was about 8 I didn’t go to school because I was sick. My friend was suppoused to bring me homework etc. but he never came. My granddad came home from work and he told me that that friend was dead, I was devastated. That night I had a dream. I was with my friend at a playground next to our school and we were talking, then he told me that he is safe and it didn’t hurt when that car hit him. The next day my mother wanted to talk to me about that situation and she asked me if I wanted to know what happened. I told her that I know everything because my friend told me. She thought that my granddad told me but he did not. He said that he did not wanted to tell me without her knowing it. That night I had a dream again and I was talking to him again. We were playing and having fun and he told me that he really had to go and we wont see each other ever again. The next day was his funeral and I really havent had a dream about him ever since.


I died. I saw it, I lived it. Either it was another world with a version of me that died I saw or I’m going crazy but I DIED.

We had a pep rally in school and after it was finished we had to go back to class. Well, my friend and I were not into that so we wanted to to across the street to Sonic. Across the school there is not heavy traffic, but if you don’t pay attention you could get hit.

Well I remember walking with him and he dropped something so I went across the street first. I just saw a red Tahoe heading right for me and I got hit.

I remember everything. I remember gasping for air, I remember waking up and sleeping again. Then nothing. All of a sudden I was back in the stadium again and the EXACT SAME WORDS came out of the principal’s mouth. My friend wanted to go get sonic but i was freaking out. Was asking him everything.

I thought it had to be a dream, so I went with him just to see what would happen. He dropped his stuff again and I waited. To my horror, that same red Tahoe showed up. I told him that I’m going back to school, I ain’t dying again.

I can still see the other version of me on that street just messed up. Not even moving.


I was on vacation on Florida visiting a friend, we were walking on the beach on a perfectly sunny day when everything went black for a second. I think it was weird but explained it away thinking that my eyes were playing tricks on me until he looked at me and said “did everything go black for a second?”

If you’ve ever had a bizarre experience with no apparent explanation, though, it may not be worth speculating about what psychological phenomenon could have really caused it. In most cases, it’s not like there’s a way to test it or find out, for better or for worse… so we’ll never run out of weird stories to tell in the dark.


Might get buried but oh well. When I played baseball as a kid, they were handing out the trophies at the end of the season. They called out the names of the kids while we received our trophies. They’re happened to be a kid with the same name as me. We met after the ceremony because it was weird since our last name isn’t a very common one. We had the same birthday and everything. We looked alike, both our Dad’s were named Derek and both of our sisters were named Lilly. As a kid, I found it cool. As an adult, I find it cool and also disturbing


My late uncle used to say he never believed in God, and he believed in Thunder instead (it’s a god from my country’s old mythology, a Baltic God called Perkūnas). He died in summer and his funeral was held on a beautiful sunny day, no clouds in sight.

As they were closing the casket suddenly the only window in the room burst open (it was definitely closed shut) and we heard a super loud thunder roar. Everyone freaked out instantly. I was around 16-years-old and I remember it clearly.

This was the only thunder that day, no rain followed and no clouds in sight.


In college, I took a hard news/soft news journalism class where one of the assignments was to write an obituary for one of my grandparents. The professor told us to write it on a deceased grandparent, but if all of your grandparents were still alive we had to choose one. In my case, all of my grandparents were alive. I procrastinated actually doing the assignment until the night before it was due because it seemed like a morbid assignment (especially once all of my grandparents were still alive).

Scramming for an easy grandparent to write about, I gave my mom a call and asked her for some basic biographical information about my maternal grandfather. As we were talking about my grandpa’s career, my mom couldn’t recall the name of one of the companies he worked at. She lectured me about waiting until the last minute to write the assignment because it was late — 10:30pm my grandpa’s time. However, she said she would give him a call to see if he was still awake and be able to answer that question once my assignment was due the following morning.

When my mom called my grandpa, my grandma answered the phone in a panic. My grandma frantically explained that the paramedics had just arrived and were performing CPR on my grandpa because he had stopped breathing and lost consciousness. My mom was able to stay on the phone with my grandma until they took my grandpa to the hospital, where he was declared dead.

In the time my mom and I had been talking on the phone about my grandpa’s “obituary,” he was dying. (His death was entirely unexpected at that. Although he was in his eighties, he was the healthiest of my grandparents at the time. We ended up using the obituary I wrote for that writing assignment as his actual obituary. Still freaks me out when I think about the timing.


I remember being pretty young like 9 or 10 and I was the car park of a pub in England (Southend). I remember seeing someone in their teens in the window of a house looking over the car park. They waved at me and I felt like I knew them somehow. My parents asked who I was waving at and I said just some lady in the window over there. Didn’t think much of it. Fast forward 10 years. I was at my nans new house. I remember walking into her room (which I never was allowed to do) going to the window. I then realised I was in the house looking over that same parking lot and remembering that interaction years before. Then a girl around 9 or 10 who was in said car park waved at me and I waved back. I felt like I knew her.

Could not explain it and have never told anyone about it. It freaked me out.


Taking the trash out at night, super remote area so I know for a fact we’re the only ones around here, getting close to the road and I hear very clearly “help me” from a female voice. Even knowing there’s such a slim chance of there being another living person around, I still feel like I should look around and check it out in case I wasn’t just hearing things and someone actually needs help. Take about two steps in the direction I thought I heard it, hear a giggle in the same exact voice, turn around and walk promptly back up the driveway because f**k that s**t. Anyone who actually needed help wouldn’t be laughing, I don’t think.


I had a very important document that I only ever kept in one place. I kept it in the top drawer of a small filing cabinet. I never moved it and would always see it in that drawer whenever I opened it for whatever reason. The day came that I needed it now and I didn’t sweat it because I knew exactly where it was. Well, I be damned if it wasn’t there. Cue panic attack.I tore that filing cabinet up. I removed everything and spread it out, flipped papers over, dug through envelopes, shook everything out, shined a flashlight all through the emptied cabinet in case it was somehow stuck to the sides… I mean, it was not there!I can assure you no one took it or was messing with me. I was so frustrated. I even looked through other parts of my house… but I knew it wouldn’t be in any of those places and it wasn’t. I was intermittently going back to that dumb filing cabinet. No luck.Super irritated, I searched the rest of the house again and, on my way back downstairs where my filing cabinet was, I called out in frustration, “Okay! Bring it back!!!”. I don’t know who I thought I was talking to because I was alone, but you guessed it… I found it in the top drawer of my filing cabinet where it should have been in the first place.I was relieved and totally freaked out.


I remember driving my car to this intersection in this rural area and I’m checking both sides because of terrible blind spots. In the corner of my eye my mother is sitting there and says something like “it’s all clear my way”

I look back and she isn’t there. My mother had been dead for a few years at this point. This was also in the middle of the day and I’ve never had it happen since.


I’ve told this story before and could go into a ton of detail but here’s the short version.

I am 100% sure I vividly remember a dog that apparently doesn’t exist. When I was 16 we lived on the other side of the province and my uncle had this little jack russell named Crue. Crue went missing for several months and then turned up at a humane society over an hour away and we were all shocked this little dog has made it so far.

anyway that was almost 20 years ago and the other day I was talking to my parents and was like you know “whenever I hear about Jack Russells I think about Crue and that stunt he pulled” and they had no idea what I was talking about. Insisted my uncle had never had such a dog, I must have dreamed it, etc. Honestly anyone else who would have remembered this dog has been dead for a long time and I don’t even have any pictures of my uncle. I have absolutely no way to prove this dog existed but I’m sure that he did.

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I usually break this out when someone asks for a “ghost story,” but I don’t believe in ghosts, so we’ll say it fits this category.I have always loved exploring abandoned buildings in the American west. Mostly ghost towns, abandoned mines and such, but old ranch houses and other building can be interesting, too.In 2005, I was in central Nevada, heading for a week long exploring trip. I passed an old house on a large (former) ranch property that I know had been inhabited just a few years earlier, but now appeared to be abandoned. No cars on the property, about half of the windows boarded up, etc.The front door was open, so after shouting out for any inhabitants with no response, I walked into the house. It had seen other visitors before me. A few windows were broken from the inside, and many of the few belongings left behind had been rummaged through and strewn about. I walked upstairs, and began walking from bedroom to bedroom. Pack rats had begun their takeover, and their droppings littered the floor. I walked into what was once decorated as a little girls room. There was a cheap brass bed frame, and the mattress had been slid partially off the frame and onto the floor. Some clothes and toys sitting around would lead me to believe the girl was quite young. I peeked into the small closet, which was bare with the exception of a few wire hangers left on the rod. When I turned to leave the closet, there was a girl, around 5-6 years old sitting on the bed, which had somehow had the mattress returned to its normal position.She said “Hi, Mister. What are you doing in my room?” I panicked, and immediately realized that the house wasn’t abandoned, it was just that the family living there was living in extreme poverty. I began apologizing, and explained that I had yelled hello, and nobody answered, so I thought the house was abandoned.”It’s okay, Mister. Mommy isn’t home. I haven’t seen here in a long time. Maybe you could help me find her?”She stood up, walked toward the the open window and sat on the ledge, looking out on a vast empty field of sagebrush.I asked her to come downstairs with me and we would go find her mother.She started to stand up from the window, but turned around suddenly and said “Oh no, he’s coming! I have to go, Mister. He’s coming! You should probably go too.” She then kicked her legs over the windowsill and jumped. I raced to the window, and looked to the ground, expecting to see an injured little girl, but there was nothing there. I raced back downstairs and out of the house. I looked around as I walked back to my car, but saw nobody.She wasn’t what I think of when I think of a ghost. There was no transparency, no foggy haze around her or anything like you would expect from a movie “ghost.” I still don’t know what the hell I saw. I pulled into Austin, NV later that evening and met up with the group I was planning on exploring with. We went for drinks that night at a local bar, and after a few drinks they convinced me to tell my story to the bartender. He listened, and then asked me to confirm the location of the property. When I described the location and condition of the house, he explained “Oh yeah. That’s the old _______ ranch. Sounds like you had a visit from Nellie. She likes to chat with people that stop by. She’s harmless.” He then explained that the original owner disappeared in the late 1960’s after leaving a note saying the family was moving to Alaska, so he could try his luck at gold mining in the Yukon. He was later located in Oregon, and largely suspected of killing his wife and daughter, however no bodies were ever found. His version of the story was that the wife and daughter did not want to leave Nevada, and left him somewhere along the way.I absolutely loathe telling this story, because I don’t believe in ghosts or the paranormal, and I feel like I’m trying to tell a spooky story to a group of children. I went back to that house 2 more times before it was burned down a few years back. I never saw or heard anything unusual since my first visit.


This summer I bought my girlfriend a last-minute birthday trip to go kayaking around the San Juan Islands off the Washington state coast. After a long drive and ferry trip, we found the tour group of about 20 people and were then shuffled into a shuttle van for a ride to the beach.

Now, my girlfriend has a unique name similar to the name of a famous painter. Let’s say it’s Rebecca Warhol just for fun (it’s not). She’s a little ray of sunshine, and started chatting with the middle aged woman sitting next to her on the shuttle as we waited to leave. The woman noted that she had always loved the name Rebecca, as it was her mother’s name. They made pleasant small talk in the van until the tour guide passed around the sign-in sheet for all of us to fill out. That’s when things got strange.

My girlfriend wrote her full name on the sheet and passed it on to the woman, who immediately shouted “Oh my God,” and started crying. After a few minutes of total confusion, she told us “Rebecca Warhol was my mother’s full name, and these islands were her favorite place in the world. She passed away this summer from cancer and we’ve traveled hundreds of miles to spread her ashes here.” We were STUNNED. I literally picked a random date, time, and tour company, and THEN we were split into the same group as this woman AND my girlfriend was sitting right next to her on the shuttle. What the hell? She continued by saying, “My daughter told us that Nana Rebecca would be with us on this trip, and I didn’t believe it until now.” It was the most unbelievable coincidence we had ever experienced, and has totally convinced me that there’s more to this world than we think. As my brother later said, the Universe winked at us that day.


Weird but happy. About 5 years ago in November we lost our family dog to cancer. She was the dog my children grew up with, loved by all. At the next Christmas, at the end of the day of gifts, food and family, as I was picking up, I found a tiny pewter dog figurine sitting on the mantel. I asked everyone who had been at the house that day if they left it. No one had. Okay, weird, but took it as a good omen. When my eldest went back to college at the end of that Christmas break, he asked if he could take the little figurine, to remember his dog. Of course, I said yes. A week or two later, picking up around the house, there was the figurine again! I called my son, and said, “You forgot the dog figurine!” He said, “No I didn’t, it’s right in front of me on my desk!” I had now found a second figurine!! Again, no one claimed any knowledge of it. No idea how….but I still have the two of them tucked away on a shelf to this day.


I don’t personally remember this, but I would see my dead grandfather all the time when I was a kid. From the ages of 7-9 there was probably 10 different incidents.

My dad was an absolute pansy when it came to “ghosts” (which I don’t really believe in) and wanted to take me to the doctor. My dad had one of those bathrooms with a separate toilet room and no one that lived in the house closed the bathroom door unless they were bathing. I was playing runescape and my dad asked why the bathroom door was closed, and I said it’s because grandpas in there. That’s the only one I actually remember.

There was maybe two other bathroom incidents and some incidents when I would sit on the floor and watch tv with my dad and he would tell me to go sit in the (what was once my grandfathers) chair and said i couldn’t because grandpa was sleeping.

I don’t know how creepy these are tbh but they freaked out my family for sure.


I was working on my motorcycle in a dirt lot where I had crashed it trying to do a sick drift, breaking off the clutch lever and the gear shifter. I had brought a wrench set with me and I was using one of them to take off a bolt when I put it down on the ground to finish unscrewing the bolt with my hand. Two minutes later I went to pick it back up and it was gone. I ran all around this dirt lot looking for it to no avail, luckily I had a spare in the car. Fixed the bike and drove back to my apartment to shower as I was filthy. I walked in my room and sitting on my desk was the wrench. I was dumbfounded


My mom told me a story that still baffles me to this day.
When she was 10-years-old her parents went out for the evening, asking her to let them in when they come back. She wasn’t left alone tho, there were two of her older siblings there too, but only her room was on the first floor, so naturally, she’d be the first one to hear someone banging on them. So the parents come back at around 2 AM and my mom wakes up. But she’s not in her bed. She’s standing holding a friggin WINDOW!
She now realizes that someone is banging on the door loudly, puts the window on the floor. Lets the parents in and they’re scared, asking what took her so long. Then they see the window and they’re all shocked since my grandpa knew there was NO WAY someone could get it out without tools. My mom tried to lift it, she couldn’t it was too heavy.
She says she doesn’t remember how she managed to unscrew the window but is still shocked it happened.


After my little brother was murdered the next morning I was talking with a friend and he mentioned this other dude I went to high school with younger brother had died in a car accident a couple weeks before.

Later that day I pull out a slip of paper with this other dudes number and name on it from my pants. I vaguely remember running into him a year or so before this at a club where he gave me his number.

I swear I had worn and washed these jeans at least a dozen times since I had run into this dude. I still makes no sense how that paper was there and I only found it then.

I call the dude and we talked a bunch it really help me deal with the situation.


I have a jade Buddhist necklace I bought in China about 10 years ago. It dissappears for months at a time only to reappear somewhere obvious like my desk, my dresser, in a drawer I use every day. I just say it goes on a trip and will come back eventually.


Probably going to get buried, but I met someone who no longer seems to exist. In October 2018, I developed tendinitis in my hand, so I went to see a hand specialist at my regular hospital. I remember the hand specialist really clearly. She was a really happy, talkative Vietnamese woman with straight, dark brown hair and glasses. She had a German-sounding last name, which I assumed was her married name. She was really really nice and we had a long conversation about a medical conference that she goes to. She explained that my hand issues (caused by phone usage) were the “hot topic” of the conference and that she’d probably use my injury as an example when she goes there. Anyway, she gave me care instructions and sent me home. I was told to return if it didn’t resolve in a few weeks because then I’d need to be reexamined and sent to physical therapy. It didn’t resolve and I went back. I had an appointment with the same doctor, but the woman who came into the room was completely different. She was a white woman with light brown hair, no glasses, completely different face shape, really dull and unwelcoming disposition. I was so f**king confused. I asked her her name, and she gave the same name the Asian doctor had. I asked if there was another doctor by that name and she told me no, it was only her. I described the doctor I had seen and she got annoyed and said she didn’t know who I was talking about. I later went online to the hospital’s staff directory and tried to find the Asian doctor — I couldn’t. I have no idea what happened to her. I even checked my medical records to see if maybe I remembered her name incorrectly but I didn’t. Both of my visits have the same doctor’s name on them. I’ve always been confused about this and it really bothers me that I met someone who doesn’t seem to exist anymore.

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Around 12 years ago I had a dark purple 3 series BMW which I drove to work and parked in the same spot for around 3 years. I sold the car due to mileage and wanting something a little more reliable and purchased a different car.

1 week later, I turn up to work to find my purple BMW parked in my parking spot. I was totally WTF?

Turns out that we had a work-experience kid start that day, and his dad had dropped him off in my old car that he bought 2 days earlier.

What are the chances of that? I’ve never met this kid or his dad, and yet here was my old car in my/its space.


Removed a painting from the wall during a late evening cleaning, put it away and returned to the wall to see a never before seen painting on the same spot, put a chill down my spine.

Read more: http://www.boredpanda.com/glitch-in-the-matrix-real-life-moments/

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