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And now, presenting, rattled and shook. Oh, the Hi everyone. Welcome to Rattled and Shook, a podcast where we tell and tune into

scary stories. This episode is part of our summer bonus mini series, which we call bedtime stories.

I'm Meredith and today I'm going to be reading a story to you that was submitted by a real

listener. Thank you Molly. So get cozy and of course, cue the vibes and let's get right into it.

It was spring of 2004 and I was a senior in high school, 17 years old. I lived in a small New England town.

I'd been working after school and on weekends as a waitress at a 50s diner.

My shifts ended at 10 p.m. and by the time I got around to being

available to hang out with my friends on the weekends, parties were usually in full swing and I was always late.

On the first Saturday night where it was warm enough to be outside

and the snow had finally disappeared from the ground, there was a party happening on Case Mountain, a small

mountain that was basically right in my backyard. It's a beautiful spot in the daytime,

with hiking trails, a picturesque reservoir and

waterfalls that are very impressive after the snow melts. We would often roll kegs

up to the top of the mountain in wheelbarrows. There was a clearing where you could see the skyline of Hartford, Connecticut, and we drink until it was time to stumble down the trail in the dark. So it was about 10.15 p.m. when I finally

left the diner. I was still in my ridiculous and greasy uniform and my plan was to drive to the parking lot near the

base of the mountain, text my friend who had promised he would come down and meet me and walk back

...