3 Disturbing Childhood Memory Horror Stories – Dark Files | Midnight Tales - video Dailymotion

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3 Disturbing Childhood Memory Horror Stories – Dark Files | Midnight Tales   Description:  Step into the shadows with Dark Files: Midnight Tales — where every whisper hides a nightmare.  In this chilling episode, we uncover three disturbing childhood memory horror stories that will haunt your dreams.  Each story reveals the eerie side of innocence, where childhood fears turn into horrifying realities.   👁️‍🗨️ Prepare yourself for spine-tingling narration, unsettling atmosphere, and unforgettable dark tales that blur the line between memory and madness.   If you enjoy true horror stories, psychological terror, and mystery-filled nightmares, this video is made for you.   🕛 Stay up late. Stay scared. Welcome to the Midnight Tales.   horror stories, true horror stories, creepy childhood stories, disturbing stories, dark files, midnight tales, scary stories, haunted memories, true scary stories, psychological horror, horror narration, ghost stories, real horror, nightmare stories, childhood horror, usa horror story, horror anthology, scary voice over, urban legends, paranormal stories, eerie tales, short horror stories, true crime horror, midnight horror tales, disturbing childhood memories

Transcript

00:00When I was about nine years old, I lived with my mom and little sister in a small house in a

00:19quiet town. The street was mostly safe, and kids would ride their bikes outside in the summer,

00:24but even back then, there were things that didn't feel right about the house.

00:28My mom used to say it was old, and old houses make noises, but some of the things I remember

00:34from that time didn't sound like house noises, they sound like something else, something I still

00:40don't really know how to explain. The first thing started one night when I couldn't sleep. I was

00:46lying in my bed with a blanket pulled up to my chin, staring at the little glow-in-the-dark stars

00:50on my ceiling. My room wasn't very big, just a bed, a dresser, and a toy chest near the window.

00:56I remember looking at the shadows on the wall from the trees outside. The branches swayed whenever

01:02the wind blew, and I told myself that's what I was seeing. But then I noticed one shadow wasn't

01:08moving like the others. It was in the corner, down low near my toy chest. At first, I thought it was

01:14a pile of clothes or one of my big stuffed animals. I almost laughed at myself because I thought I was

01:20just being a scared kid. But then I blinked, and the shadow was gone. I remember feeling cold,

01:26like the kind of cold that comes from the inside of your body, not the air.

01:30I pulled the blanket over my head and fell asleep. The next morning, I didn't even think about it

01:36until I saw my toy chest. It was standing open, like someone had been looking inside. I never left it

01:43open because my mom would yell if toys spilled out. I closed it and didn't say anything. A few weeks

01:50later, my sister, who was only five, told my mom she didn't like the man in the closet. I basically

01:57froze when she said it because she said it so casually as if it were just a fact. My mom brushed

02:03it off and said little kids imagined things. But I saw my sister's face, and I could tell she wasn't

02:08making it up. She said he would stand in the closet at night and whisper, but she couldn't

02:13hear the words. My mom tucked her in that night and said a prayer with her, but she didn't check

02:18the closet. Later that night, I woke up because I heard something dragging across my floor, like

02:24someone pulling their nails across the wood. I was too scared to move, but the sound stopped right by

02:30my bed. I was sure if I looked over the side, I'd see something staring up at me. I just froze there,

02:37clutching the blanket until I fell asleep again. The next morning, there were long scratches on the

02:42floor right by the side of my bed. They were fresh, like someone had carved into the wood.

02:48I remember running to show my mom, but she got angry. She said I must have been playing with

02:53something sharp or dragging furniture. I swore I hadn't, but she didn't believe me. After that,

03:00the nights got worse. I would hear faint whispers, almost like a radio on low volume, and it would

03:06come from my closet. Sometimes my sister would cry in her room, and when I ran in,

03:11she would be pointing at the corner, saying, he's there, he's there. I never saw him, but I believed

03:17her. You know when someone's watching you and the hairs on your arms stand up? That's how it felt.

03:23The scariest night was in the middle of winter. I woke up and saw my bedroom door was open,

03:29even though I always shut it tight. I could see the hallway light because my mom left one on for us

03:34at night. But then, as I watched, the light in the hall went out. I thought maybe the bulb turned out.

03:41Then I heard footsteps coming down the hall. They stopped outside my door. I wanted to scream for my

03:47mom, but nothing came out. The door creaked, and I saw a tall, dark shape lean in, just its head

03:55poking into the room. I shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep. When I opened them again, the door

04:02was closed and I was alone. In the morning, I asked my mom if she had come into my room.

04:07She said no, she had been asleep all night. My sister said she saw the man again, standing by

04:13her bed. We told my mom together, and she finally looked worried. She lit a candle and said a prayer

04:20in each room of the house. Things were quiet for a little while after that, but it didn't last.

04:26One afternoon, I came home from school before my mom. I was sitting on the couch doing homework,

04:32when I heard the sound of the toy chest in my room slammed shut. The thing is, nobody else was home.

04:39I hoped it was just the wind, but when I walked down the hall, I saw my bedroom door was wide open.

04:45My toy chest was closed, but all my toys were scattered on the floor like someone had dumped them

04:50out. I backed away and waited outside until my mom came home. When I told her, she still didn't

04:56believe me and said the cat knocked things over. Years later, after we moved out, I asked my mom

05:02if she ever experienced anything in that house. She hesitated, then said yes. She said sometimes she

05:08would wake up and see a shadow standing in her doorway. She said she never told us because she didn't want

05:13to scare us, but she admitted she believed there was something wrong with that house. She said she thought

05:19it was a man, someone who used to live there. She never said much more, but I know what I

05:24saw, and I know what my sister saw too. Even now, as an adult, when I think about that time,

05:31I feel sick in my stomach. It wasn't imagination. It was something real, and it wanted us to know

05:37it was there. Sometimes late at night when I can't sleep, I still hear the sound of nails

05:43dragging across the floor. When I was 10 years old, my family moved into a bigger house because

05:56my mom had just gotten remarried and we needed more space. The house was nice, newer than the

06:02one we lived in before, and it was in a quiet neighborhood with a lot of trees. I thought I

06:07would be happy there. At first, everything seemed normal, but then little things started happening

06:13that made me feel like the house wasn't right. My bedroom was at the end of the hall. It had two

06:19big windows that faced the backyard and a closet that was deeper than the one I had before.

06:24I liked it, until the first night I slept there. I woke up around midnight because I heard something

06:31moving in the closet. It wasn't loud, just soft shuffling like clothes being brushed against.

06:37I stared at the closet and told myself it was just the house settling. I know it sounds cliche,

06:44but most people, even as children, would assume small sounds coming from here and there in a house

06:49are just typical house noises that you hear every day. But then I saw the door move. It didn't swing

06:55open, but it shivered like someone had lightly pressed on it from the inside. I wanted to run to my mom's

07:02room, but I was frozen. I stayed that way until I fell back asleep, still staring at the closet.

07:08The next morning, the closet door was cracked open just a little, even though I had shut it tight.

07:14I asked my mom if she had gone in there, and she said no. She said maybe the air vent pushed it,

07:20but I knew it wasn't the air vent. The nights after that got worse. I started hearing tapping on the

07:26window glass. At first, I thought it was tree branches, but when I looked, there were no branches

07:32near the window. The tapping would go on for minutes, and when I pulled the blanket over my head,

07:37it would stop. I tried to ignore it until one night I finally peeked out. I saw a pale hand pressed

07:44against the window. It was on the outside, but the window was on the second floor, way too high for

07:50anyone to reach without a ladder. The hand stayed there for a long time, just pressed without moving.

07:57Then, it slid down slowly and disappeared. I didn't sleep at all that night. I told my mom,

08:04and she started cracking up laughing when I told her. She didn't believe me for a second. When she

08:09saw that I wasn't just saying it as a prank or a joke, she leaned more into trying to convince me that

08:14I was probably in a half-asleep state and seeing things from my dream, but I knew that was a load of

08:19horseshit. My stepdad didn't believe me either. He said I was making it up for attention, and he also

08:25got a laugh out of it, but I started noticing he kept the hallway light on at night, so maybe he

08:30didn't feel as safe as he pretended. A month later, my little brother, who was four, started talking

08:36about the white lady. He would say she came into his room and sat on his bed. My mom thought it was

08:42just his imagination, but one night I heard him screaming. I ran in and saw him curled up under his

08:48blanket crying. When he finally calmed down, he said the white lady had been standing by his door,

08:53just staring at him. He said her eyes were all black. I believed him because of what I had seen

08:59at my window. I started sleeping with the blanket over my head every night, but that didn't stop the

09:05dreams. I began to dream of the white lady too. She would stand in the corner of my room and whisper

09:11my name. Her voice was dry, like leaves rubbing together. Sometimes I would wake up and still hear

09:18it, faint but definitely real. One night I woke up and saw her standing at the foot of my bed.

09:25She was taller than anyone I had ever seen. Her head almost touched the ceiling. She wore a long

09:31white dress that moved even though the air was still. Her hair was black and stringy, and her face

09:37was pale like chalk. Her eyes were like empty black holes. I tried to scream, but nothing came out.

09:44I shut my eyes, and when I opened them again, she was gone, but my closet door was wide open.

09:51After that, I couldn't go in my closet anymore. I begged my mom to let me sleep in her room,

09:56but she said I need to learn how to be brave. I think she didn't want to admit she was scared too.

10:01The worst night came during a storm, heavy rain and loud wind. I woke up to the sound of my window

10:08creaking. When I looked, the window was slowly sliding open, even though it was locked. I could

10:14see the lock turning by itself. The window opened all the way, and I saw the white lady climb in.

10:21She didn't move like a person. She floated. Her feet never touched the floor. She drifted toward my

10:27bed and leaned down until her face was right in front of mine. I felt her cold breath on my skin.

10:34She whispered my name again, and this time I screamed as loud as I could. My mom and stepdad

10:40came running in, but when they turned on the light, the window was closed and locked, and no one else

10:46was there. They yelled at me for scaring everyone, but I could see in their faces that they were worried.

10:52The weird thing about that part of the story is that I don't vividly remember what happened between

10:56the moment I saw that lady floating towards me and my screaming. The best I can explain it is that I

11:02sort of blacked out for a moment before remembering screaming and having my parents rush into the room.

11:07My window was closed again, which would suggest to people that it was just a night terror.

11:12That's what my parents believed it was, I think. My mom started taking me to therapy for a while

11:17because they were worried about me. We lived in that house for three more years, and I never got used

11:23to it. My brother stopped talking about the white lady, but I think it was because he was too scared,

11:29not because she stopped visiting. Sometimes I would hear him crying at night and saying,

11:33go away. I think he just also didn't want to be forced into going to therapy.

11:38Sometimes when it storms at night, I still get scared to even get up to go to the bathroom or get

11:43water. I'll glance over at corners of the room, making sure I don't see something tall lurking there.

11:48It goes to show how these kinds of things stick with you into adulthood. I'd be more open to

11:54believing it was simply night terrors if it weren't for the fact that I saw that hand on my window

11:58before my little brother even first mentioned the white lady. I guess this is just one of those

12:03freakish experiences that cannot be explained.

12:06When I was eight, I rode my bike every day after school. I lived on a quiet street with small

12:21houses and big trees. I learned every crack in the sidewalk. I learned where the mailman stopped.

12:28One house I liked was down the block. I had to ride near the corner of the block to get a view of the

12:33yard. There was a long driveway and a wide lawn. An older man stood in that driveway most afternoons.

12:40He'd always wear a hat, and he'd stand where the driveway met the sidewalk and look down the street.

12:45When I rode by, he would say hi. He never came onto the sidewalk. He never stepped off his driveway.

12:51He would call out and wave and then go back to watching his yard. I always waved back.

12:57My mother told me to never cross the street by myself, so I never crossed to actually speak to the

13:02man face to face. And the man knew that. He would call to me from his place and ask about school.

13:07He would ask about my bike. He asked if I liked the bell on my new red bike. I even remember once he

13:12told me a joke about a cat that made me laugh. We talked for weeks like that. The conversations

13:18were short. They were always from his driveway to the curb. He seemed to know small things about me

13:24without me saying them. For example, the fact that I had a little brother, or my dad got a new car.

13:29However, I never told him these things. I thought maybe he had seen us from down the block or

13:34something, like he was just a neighbor who watched the street. One day I got a brand new bike. It was

13:40red with a shiny bell like I mentioned before. I rode down the block slow, and he called out,

13:45nice bike. He asked if I wanted to race to the corner. I told him no because my mom would be angry.

13:50He smiled and said one day. After that, we talked about small things. He told me about a bird that

13:58liked his fence, and then about a rule about never stepping on a certain stone. Then he told me a

14:03story about a dog that would always bring a slipper back. He sounded like someone who had time to watch

14:08small things. I started looking for him when I was on my bike. Some afternoons he was there,

14:14and sometimes he wasn't. Then one week, he stopped coming out. I rode down the block past the house,

14:21and no one stood there. The curtains in the front window were closed. I slowed down and looked at

14:27the driveway, and it was kind of weird not seeing the man there. I wanted to ask my mother if I could

14:32cross the street. She said no. She said the road was not for unsupervised kids. Anyway, a few days later,

14:39I saw a woman in the backyard of that house. I had never seen anyone in that yard before.

14:45I had to ride around the corner to see her. She had her hair tied back, and she held a watering can,

14:51so I had to assume she was watering flowers back there. I stopped my bike down the street so she

14:57would not see me too close. I wanted to call across the road like I always did, but I didn't. I don't

15:03know if I was too shy or scared of what my mother would say if I was staying out too late. The woman

15:08didn't seem to notice me any more than I noticed her, though. A few days later, I rode by again,

15:14and the woman was on the back porch. She had a mug in her hands. I sat on my bike and watched for a

15:20bit. Then she opened a small side door and went around the house. I pedaled slowly to the corner,

15:26and waited where the sidewalk curved. I looked down the block just to ensure my mom wasn't outside.

15:32Then I decided I would quickly cross the street. I pushed my pedals and crossed like my life depended on

15:38it. The house looked bigger from up close. The driveway was long and sloped down to the road.

15:44I felt like I was not allowed to be there. I stopped at the end of the driveway near the back

15:49gate. The woman heard me. She turned and saw a small boy with a red bike standing at the gate.

15:55She looked surprised, but not angry. She came to the gate and opened it, and she asked what I was doing

16:01back there. I told her about the man on the driveway and that he would used to say hi when I would bike

16:06past. I told her he knew my name, and that he said he would race me one day. She wiped her hands on her

16:13dress like she had been working, and then said the man I described sounded like her husband.

16:18I smiled, thinking she would say he went on a trip where he's inside and she'll go get him,

16:22but she didn't smile. She said he had died the year before. She said he died in his chair. His name

16:29was Harold. I felt a cold space open in my chest. I asked her if she had a picture. I wanted to see

16:36him. She went inside and returned with a small frame. The photograph showed a man with the same

16:42hat and the same broad smile. He actually bore a resemblance to the man I'd always seen.

16:47Then the woman said the photo was new, taken only a couple of years ago. She said her husband had a

16:53scar across his cheek since he was young. I looked at the photo close, and the man in the picture had a

16:58thin, pale scar from ear to mouth. I remembered the man on the driveway. He had no scar. He had a

17:04round, plain face and smooth skin. The hat matched and the smile matched, but the scar did not. I told

17:11her I once saw a mark on the man's face, but I thought he rubbed his cheek once. She said that

17:16that scar had been there for a long time, but that he'd hide it under stubble sometimes. She said again

17:22that her husband had died and that no one else lived in the house. She said she had moved back last summer

17:27to take care of the garden, and that she's never seen or heard anyone standing in the driveway.

17:32I honestly started to get kind of scared at this point. I thanked her and backed down the driveway.

17:38I didn't look back into the yard again. I rode home slow and put the bike in the garage.

17:44The bike ride back was kind of like how when you almost get into a car accident,

17:48you'll drive home the rest of the way in silence with the radio off.

17:51My mom didn't ask any questions when I got home. She just told me to be careful.

17:55That night I couldn't sleep. I thought about the man with the hat. I thought about his laugh and the

18:01way he said my name, and I thought about the scar in the photograph. The next day I went by the house

18:07and the curtains were open. Sunlight touched the porch and driveway, but no one stood in the driveway.

18:14I waved from the corner, but no one waved back, so I pedaled away. For a while nothing else happened.

18:20I tried to forget. I made new routes on my bike. I talked with kids on other blocks.

18:27Weeks passed. Then one night, I woke up and heard my name. It sounded like someone outside the house

18:33near my window. The voice was familiar. It said my name like the man across the street used to say it.

18:40I sat up fast and my head started spinning. Over the light sound of raindrops outside,

18:46I knew for a fact I was hearing my name being repeatedly called. I shouted for my mother and

18:51then threw the covers over myself, hiding. She came in in a hurry and sat by the bed.

18:57I told her about the voice outside my window. She rubbed my back and told me it was the wind.

19:02To make me feel better, she went to the window and lifted the blinds. She said there wasn't anyone

19:08out there, so I went over to check myself. There was a light rain outside, but other than that,

19:13my mom was right. My father got up and checked the locks to the windows and doors.

19:19He looked outside with a flashlight, which made me feel better. They said there was no one out there.

19:24When I insisted I heard a voice, they said perhaps the most typical thing a parent would say to a

19:29scared child, that I dreamed it. The next morning, my throat hurt from shouting the night before.

19:36I told my friends at school, and they laughed at me for implying I believed in ghosts.

19:40One friend dared me to stand in the driveway of that house at night and call his name.

19:45I did not take that dare. Days passed and nothing happened, so I moved on.

19:51The years went on and the street changed. Houses sold and the woman's house stood empty for a little

19:57while. I once saw movers taking boxes out. Later on, new people were painting the front.

20:04The long driveway was still there, but it had new cars.

20:06I rode past and did not look for a man in a hat. I got older. I learned other routes. I learned the

20:14names of new neighbors and their dogs, and eventually, at the age of 18, I moved out for

20:18college. I never moved back to that house because my parents sold it while I was in college, but the

20:24memory of that man sits like a small stone in my chest. I wonder why I didn't ask the woman for

20:30more pictures or go back to press her for more details. I guess in that moment, I was scared to

20:35wonder if I had been talking to a ghost. I didn't cross that street again for a long time.

20:41I told this story to one or two people later in life, and they even asked why I didn't go back

20:46and ask that woman more, or why I didn't tell the woman everything I remembered. Maybe they were

20:50right. Maybe I should have been braver. Maybe I should have asked more questions about the scar,

20:56or to see a wedding photo. But I was eight. I wasn't really thinking that way. A few years ago,

21:02I drove down the block just for the hell of it. A child was riding a bike near the corner.

21:07The driveway was empty. For a moment, I wanted to stop. I wanted to ask if anyone had stood there

21:13and said hi. I wanted to know if anyone else had heard a voice in the rain. I wanted a small answer

21:18that would close the gap. But I didn't stop. I just kept driving. The memory stays as it was,

21:24and I try my best to suppress it these days.

21:27No music soon.

21:34No music.

21:40No music.

21:51No music.

21:52No music.

3 Disturbing Childhood Memory Horror Stories – Dark Files | Midnight Tales

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