WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS WOMAN? by JOHN STOREY

By the time they get to be my ripe old age of 25, just about every guy (except for my best friend actually) has had his “first naked woman story.” Although he is left out in the cold on this one, mine isn’t exactly typical, as I’m the only guy I know that has one appropriate for the YouTube scary story community…. I grew up in Northern New Jersey in a wealthy, semi-rural suburb of New York City where people generally keep to themselves when it comes to their neighbors and are just downright suspicious of outsiders. I guess there has been enough weird stuff that has happened in the area over the years to justify that attitude. My story is one that probably contributes to this wariness.

My mother always used to drive my sister and I to our school bus stop in the morning despite it being only 200 or so meters from our front door due to its isolated rural nature, position on a pretty important and fast through fare and the often crappy New Jersey weather. Almost every day, nothing out of the ordinary would happen, but one early autumn day in if I remember correctly, 2004, when I was a freshman in high school, that wasn’t quite the case. My mom and I were sitting down there in her green car waiting for the bus to come when all of the sudden, her early 2000s brick of a cellphone phone rang. It was my dad, who usually leaves for work before 7am but that day, had left super late; only a few minutes after my mom and I had went to the bus stop actually. He asked my mom for the non-emergency number of the local police. Knowing that my dad knew this number off the top of his head, as she had seen him dial it many times without looking it up, she could tell that he couldn’t recall it because he was in some sort of shock. It turns out that after leaving the house and driving about a quarter mile or so, my dad spotted a naked woman walking down the side of the busy county highway in our backdoor neighbor’s front yard, screaming, crying, coming across as just flat out disoriented and heading right for our bus stop. This alarmed me, despite being barely 14, I was able to see past the fact that there was a “naked woman” nearby and that this meant she was likely raped, kidnapped, had escaped from or had been dumped off by some sick creeps and had potentially been drugged or even almost murdered… right in my beloved neighborhood where not too long before, my little sister and I had been sleeping! As a kid and still as an “adult,” nothing gets me riled up as quickly as reports of crime or danger in my peaceful wooded neighborhood do. Sure enough, within five minutes, a woman with long, black wavy hair and a light olive complexion and healthy, curvy build, aged maybe 40 or so, was in view of the bus stop, arms crossed covering her breasts, balling her eyes out and screaming “go away” at the caravan of cars that had formed behind her and my father’s car of people trying to help her. Yes, I know people say New Jerseyians are rude, always in a hurry and selfish, but in a situation like this, we drop the Jersey attitude faster than MTV dropped “The Jersey Shore” after season 6. The strange, slow moving procession made it about a quarter mile past my bus stop before they were intercepted by the police that my father had called. Besides a short and disappointingly vague write up buried deep in the local newspaper several days later, I heard anything of her again.

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