Hello and welcome to this little Patreon preview. If you want to hear exactly what type of content you can expect to get on Patreon, then please stick around to the end of this little episode.

I mentioned Patreon on pretty much every episode, but I don't often talk about what it actually is, so at the beginning of each month I'm going to give you a little preview of what is available on patreon.com forward slash real life ghost stories.

You can sign up to patreon for either $2 or $5 a month to get all of the main and many episodes of real life ghost stories completely add free.

There are also extra film reviews, giveaways, bonus Q&As and much much more. Remember Patreon is entirely flexible and you can delete your pledge instantly at any time.

For $5 a month you get access to over 150 extra episodes. Every Monday I release an episode of tiny tales. Sometimes it's a collection of spooky stories, sometimes it's a special guest where a knowledgeable person comes on and tells their own paranormal tale.

Sometimes it's another spooky story that's linked to the main episode and other times it's big for Dorotica.

There I said it. And lately once a month we've been doing a no sleep special where we find the scariest spooky story from the depths of the internet. What you're about to hear is a snippet from one of those stories.

Remember you can sign up on patreon.com forward slash real life ghost stories. The link to that will be in the description of this episode and is also available on the website.

So let's get into it.

Every night, no matter the weather, something walks down our street whistling softly. You can only hear it if you're in the living room or the kitchen when they walk by.

And it always starts at exactly 303.

The sound starts faint, somewhere near the beginning of the lane near the car someplace. We're towards the middle of the street.

So the whistling moves past us before fading away in the direction of the cul de sac.

When I was younger my sister and I would sneak into the kitchen some nights to listen.

Mom and dad didn't like that and we'd catch hell if they found us out there. But there were never too hard on us since we always stuck to the one big rule.

Don't try to look at whatever was whistling.

My neighborhood is a funny place. I've lived here since I was six and I love it. The houses are small but well kept, good sized yards, plenty of spaces to roam.

There are a lot of other kids here my age. I turned 13 back in October. We grew up together and would always play four square in the cul de sac or roam around from back porch to back porch in the summer.

This was a good place to grow up. I'm old enough to see it. And there's only the two strange things here. The night with sling and the good luck.

The whistling never bothered me much. Like I said I couldn't even hear it from my bedroom. But my mom and dad didn't like talking about it so I stopped asking questions.

My dad is a strong guy, tall and calm. He has an accent since he moved the US as a kid. His family, my grandparents, they're from the islands. That's what they call it.

My dad the only time he isn't calm is if the whistler comes up.

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