Angela's Daughter

[00:00:00] Welcome to Scary Story Podcast. Please make sure that you're subscribed to this show in order to keep getting the stories. This one is about a strange character, in a circle of friends, and a strange discovery about her. My name is Edwin, and here's a scary story.

[00:00:25] Miss Gomez, Rita was her first name, was always a character around middle school. She got along well with the other teachers and even with a janitor, a man from Brazil who we would greet every morning when we got to school but couldn't understand.

[00:00:41] I remember she spoke Portuguese, Spanish, English, and French. Rita was the oldest teacher, I'm sure. She must have been around 60 or so when I left middle school, but we managed to keep in touch because of my high school's volunteer program.

[00:00:58] I knew I was going to always remember her because of how involved she was with my success in that school. It was as though she would see the potential in me that no one else gave me. She let me pick my 8th grade teacher, you know.

[00:01:11] She made me go around to the 6 teachers and introduce myself. Then, she said, I should make a list and choose one of them, saying that she would ensure that I would get into their class the following year.

[00:01:25] Rita and I became friends after I graduated from high school and started helping out with her community gardening group. There were other tasks there that involved me sending emails to people about getting funding for it.

[00:01:38] I would go to her house sometimes to play with her dogs, two enormous golden retrievers. But I also got to know some of her friends that used to visit her often, along with the ones that used to go to all the city events.

[00:01:51] I forgot their names by now. I mean, it has been a long time since Rita passed away, but there was one of her friends that really stood out. You know, she told me once, there's something strange about Angela. She's a character.

[00:02:07] I thought she was joking for some reason. I mean, it was odd to hear Rita speak like that of anybody. But when I think back on it, I realize that it was her personality, taking care of her

[00:02:18] students, even if she had to warn them when something simply wasn't right. I had known Angela for about two or three months before Rita told me that about her. We had been at one of those community events put on by the city.

[00:02:33] The idea was to set up potted plants out on a table for members of the community to come by and take some while leaving a donation. It was wishful thinking on Rita's part, but she still somehow hoped that the town people would leave a few bucks or something.

[00:02:48] Nineteen plants got any home that day. The only person who donated anything was Angela. She picked up a small plant just about to bloom the pink flowers that I had seen at the garden so many times. She left two dollars.

[00:03:04] Ooh, she's gonna love it, she whispered to herself as she sniffed the dirt from the pot. And then she stepped back before trying to make conversation with us. Asked us about how the day was going and whatnot.

[00:03:18] Technically, you could consider her being a little strange just based on that, but I had no idea just how eerie her life turned out to be. Rita didn't say anything to me right at that moment and I was surprised of why she waited so long to tell me.

[00:03:40] Then I realized she just didn't know. Angela was about the same age as Rita, maybe a little older. Her gray hair was always flat, unbothered by the wind at all times. It would droop over her dark sweaters, sometimes leaving these strands of them sticking to

[00:03:58] her back and rib areas. I remember always wanting to pick them out, wondering how she would take it if I did, but I never managed to. Other times she would comb it in strange patterns, but still, it came down the sides and the

[00:04:15] back of her head as if it were heavy. Just straight down. Other people that used to be around the community garden and the events put on by the city council used to flat out avoid her, sometimes in a rude way.

[00:04:29] Like one time around the donut table at the city hall. There was a group of five or six women talking about whatever women at that age talk about when one of them asked them not to turn around but that Angela was coming.

[00:04:43] I was grabbing a Sprite from the cooler when I heard her and I got to watch them scatter like roaches away from the table. Angela, stunned by the reaction went by herself to grab a napkin and a donut. Then she stared right ahead.

[00:04:59] I didn't know what to do either so I walked over to the donut and grabbed the glazed one, asking her how her day was going. She cheered up almost immediately, talking about how she was having a good time and thanking

[00:05:12] me for inviting her even though all I had done was send an email. Email, by the way, was a new thing back then. But most adults I knew, well the older ones I knew, had accounts on MSN and AOL and all that.

[00:05:29] They would spend hours at the public library sending each other things and reading articles, learning languages and all of these things that the early internet was used for. It was among that group of older women who would spend their time at city hall, at the

[00:05:44] library and at all the city events where the rumors started. Although I'm sure Rita tried to stay away from it for as long as she could, I think that's what made her tell me that there was something strange about Angela.

[00:05:58] But suddenly, I don't know why, I started noticing all of these strange mannerisms from Angela. The way she chewed, for example. Her eyes tilting from side to side after she took a bite. And even that smile as other people started being rude to her.

[00:06:15] With those things I told you earlier, simple ones like walking away when she was approaching. Or that one time when they made up excuses not to give her a ride after she said that she could stay a little bit longer if someone offered one.

[00:06:28] The last bus was about to arrive during an event and she was going to miss it. That specific time, everyone there, trust me, had a car and lots of time on their hands. I just never quite understood it.

[00:06:47] During a tree lighting event in December, she had to leave early, which surprised everyone because she would usually wait for the last bus. It's tough to describe her role with that group.

[00:06:57] I mean, it's hard for me to even explain why I was there so much of the time. I think I mainly did it to spend time with Rita. But it was at that same night when Betty, one of the funny ones from the group, told

[00:07:11] us something she had found out about Angela. Now, she said, don't go around telling everyone about this. As far as you know, this isn't true, alright? But it's true. I don't know why I found this so funny at the time, but everyone's smiles went away once

[00:07:29] we heard the story. This woman knew of someone who worked at the library. We all knew who she was, as secretive as she tried to be, but she would tell Betty everything related to town gossip, this library worker. She would spill the beans on everything.

[00:07:47] Who she had seen with who, who had filed for divorce, and all this other stuff that would be interesting to them. Anyway, one afternoon, this worker at the library was called by a customer, or whatever

[00:08:00] you call them, a guest, I guess, because of an issue with her computer. She had been very disturbed by what she had seen on the screen. Obviously, this secret library worker thought that it was just age-inappropriate material.

[00:08:15] She had had her own awkward encounters with people viewing that kind of stuff online at the library, but when she got to the screen, all she could see was an image of a wall inside of a dark room.

[00:08:28] The wall was lit by a flashlight from where the camera was, and it was writing on the wall, with a phrase in English letter characters, but words that made no sense. When she scrolled down the webpage, she said, she noticed a list of materials, this time

[00:08:46] in plain English, listing several household items, along with things like yarn, and she said that it looked like an arts and crafts project, and so she saw instructions on removing the blood of a live rodent.

[00:09:01] At the time, the worker simply closed the page and deleted the history of the internet browser. It was supposed to clear out once the last user logged out, but the system back then

[00:09:11] was not as developed as we have them today, so sometimes when you'd forget to log out, the computer wouldn't do it for you, and you would just end up using someone else's internet use timer. That's how the library used to do it back then anyway.

[00:09:25] And so the worker wrote down the computer's number on a scrap piece of paper, and took it to the front desk with her to look to see who had used it before, and she found out that the user had been Angela. Just what Betty wanted here actually happened.

[00:09:42] She started getting questions from everybody. What had the page been about? What was the name of it? Could her friend email it to them? And all of these would be answered by everyone in the group with their own theories. But somehow everything would lead them back to witchcraft.

[00:10:01] Questions about her family and her life in the past, asking what town she had come from and why she kept coming around even though she wouldn't connect with anyone in particular. What about her family? Had she been married?

[00:10:17] That's when they started talking about the time Angela mentioned her daughter. She had arrived late to a bake sale and told them that she had been taking care of her daughter and that she needed her to go to sleep before taking the bus to City Hall.

[00:10:32] Nobody thought much of it at the time until that night, in the tree lighting event, the question came up. Angela was too old to have a daughter, right? Perhaps she was sick, Rita suggested. It was a special needs child and she wanted to keep her matters private.

[00:10:52] The group went silent for a bit, suddenly feeling the guilt of the way that they had been acting around Angela. I never treated her poorly and even Rita was very careful about the way she warned me about her.

[00:11:06] I noticed a sudden shift in behavior from them toward Angela though. The conversation that night had actually done something good for everyone. I for one was relieved by it. It had been so awkward all this time, but there was something about that night that

[00:11:25] I think they were right about. And it wasn't about her daughter. Part 2 of Angela's Daughter is coming up right after this. Please remember that our sponsors help make this podcast possible and they offer you great deals, so if you're interested, check them out. Anyway, stay with me. Spring.

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[00:14:35] Rita called me right after work. It was unusual of her to call that late, so I picked up, a little worried. You get a sense when something isn't right, you know? And I was right.

[00:14:48] Angela had been picked up that morning after a visit from the medical examiner and word got around very quickly. It looked like she had fallen asleep on the couch and was there when the woman who delivered her meals found her early in the morning.

[00:15:03] When she wouldn't respond, the woman screamed. And that's when neighbors called the police and she was then removed from the house. Angela had died alone. The news hit the women from the community guarding group pretty hard.

[00:15:19] Again, though, I think it was guilt, although they would never admit to it. But I mean, it'll be something that they'll have to live with. Several weeks after the funeral, Rita and I both got letters in the mail and phone calls

[00:15:32] from the state, saying that there had been a request to help remove Angela's things from her house. If we were willing to, of course, because she had no immediate family members in the area.

[00:15:44] The letter had been sent by one of her brothers, saying that Angela spoke fondly of both myself and Rita, and in case of anything happened, she would trust us with her life. It would take her brother a bit to get there, and they needed to meet some deadline.

[00:16:00] The task was simple. It was to help her sort through her things for donation and an estate sale, where the proceeds would go to the community guarding. At the time, I was what? 19 or 20 years old.

[00:16:14] I had no idea about what an estate sale was and had not experienced the death of somebody that I knew. It was like a strange state of shock. But going through the items at her house was the least I could do, and so I accepted.

[00:16:29] And Rita did too. Getting to a dead person's home was a strange feeling, knowing that these were the specific smells she smelled before passing away. Certain spots of the house smelled like old carpet. The house had been well kept and things were neatly organized throughout.

[00:16:50] Rita's plan was to get in and out quickly, so she said that she would work on the kitchen while I did the living room. The idea was that we would go through absolutely everything that could have been a memento

[00:17:01] or a photograph and put them in boxes for her, for her brother to eventually pick them up. It was a Saturday morning and we had all the time in the world, and even though I knew that, we spent it all on her notebook.

[00:17:17] I noticed it sitting there on the table that served as a desk against the window of her living room. The pen that she had used was missing the cap that I later found on the floor.

[00:17:29] It was open to the last page she had written on, and without reading that last part, I walked over to Rita who was still in the kitchen, emptying out the refrigerator, when I told her that I had just found her notebook.

[00:17:41] She walked over to me and quietly whispered Angela's name as she exhaled a loud sigh. She grabbed it and went to the couch, laying it flat on her lap. We both sat there in a haunting silence as she flipped to the first page of it.

[00:17:59] Rita looked over to me and quietly said, she was always misunderstood, huh? She said it with that old wisdom you would expect a teacher to have and always wished for in a parent or grandparent.

[00:18:13] She went through the first page in silence before reading it out loud, reminding me of how we used to go through the social studies books back in middle school with that same reading voice.

[00:18:23] Those memories of when she was only Miss Gomez quickly left as the content of those pages came to life. Angela wrote about the community garden and the friends that she had made, mentioning us by name along with the others.

[00:18:38] She genuinely thought we were her friends, the only people in her life. She mentioned the time Rita gave her a card for her birthday and how she kept a candle for the cupcakes she was given, and about the time Betty and the others laughed at one

[00:18:54] of her jokes. We sat there from about 9 in the morning until 1 in the afternoon, going through her life in those pages and stopping to talk about what Angela had been to our group.

[00:19:07] Both a friend and a lesson, even though we would only remember her for one of those. There were several strange things that appeared in that notebook, and they stood out to the both of us. The most important one was mention of her daughter.

[00:19:25] She spoke of her long black hair and perfect smile, the ways her eyes glowed at night, and how grateful she was to have her in her life. Angela was quite expressive in her writing, even though in person she seemed distant and a bit insecure.

[00:19:43] She wrote about getting her address and how they enjoyed their conversations. Rita and I were confused at the thought that maybe she had been a part of a program where she had to take care of someone, or maybe volunteer in a project involving children.

[00:19:57] But I'm sure we would have found out about it earlier if that had been the case. It was so strange to read about it because Angela was in no way able to have a daughter, especially like the one she described, one that was playful, young, and innocent.

[00:20:17] Everyone would have known about her, she would have brought her along to our events, or I don't know, it was impossible. Like a few other members of the community garden group, perhaps her mind was aging and

[00:20:29] confusing her, and all she wrote were stories of things she wished for. Rita kept reading through the days that she wrote, although they weren't every day, and they weren't just words. Sometimes they were drawings and sketches, recipes and questions.

[00:20:46] Other times she would talk about her day, again, of her daughter. There was one part where she said she had gotten angry with her one day and decided to leave her alone in her room.

[00:20:59] "'Girls that misbehave don't deserve dinner,' she said at one point, words that didn't seem to fit her in the way that she used to be. And then she read the next part out loud, about how Angela had to punish her daughter,

[00:21:16] who was always unnamed by the way, just referred to as my daughter, because she had climbed onto her shoulder and tugged at her hair. The ink of her pen she was writing with dug deep into the paper with anger when she wrote

[00:21:31] that she couldn't believe her daughter, that she had pulled hair right out of her head, that she would have to find a way to comb it over to the other side so that it goes unnoticed.

[00:21:43] I did remember seeing her strangely combed hair a few times, along with small scratches on the side of her neck that nobody cared enough to ask about. Rita was a little nervous at this point, wondering if maybe it had been a cat she was talking

[00:21:58] about and referring to as my daughter. At the time, I wanted to find out more about it, even though Rita was lost in thought and wanted to talk things through before continuing. But instead I grabbed the notebook and read,

[00:22:12] My daughter, the one who came to my house as a gift, has turned into a nightmare. Unsure of how to turn her back into the sane and quiet little girl I once had, strands of

[00:22:24] hair on her tight grip, like a fist, bring forth an anger so intense that I lost my balance and sat in silence for a few minutes to catch my breath. And then another entry that you could tell was written a different day.

[00:22:40] My daughter, brought to life once again through the spirits Hijabad and Turnikan, I begged that she goes back to normal. It is too late. I flipped to the next page and it was blank.

[00:22:57] None of those last pages were dated and each one was more confusing than the last. We didn't know what to think or if it had been related to her death, and our thoughts would go to the same thing.

[00:23:11] She seemed so normal, who would have known that she had all these internal problems? Problems that may have killed her. The beam from the sun through the window had reached our shins by now, and we could see

[00:23:24] the dust slowly flowing through it as we talked quietly about Angela and who her daughter could have been, what could have taken so much control over her, and had we noticed any changes in her? How would we have been able to tell if nobody actually talked to her?

[00:23:46] There were long pauses after our questions, uninterrupted periods of silence in that dead living room until we were brought out of it. A soft scratching sound coming from the hallway, a soft cry from one of the rooms. So maybe she did have a cat, we figured.

[00:24:09] The whole time she was talking about a cat, had the thing been in there for weeks? The cry then became a little more defined and it seemed to multiply into several voices right in the room behind us. I stood up first and walked to the hallway.

[00:24:30] I was sure that the noises were coming from inside, and so without hesitating I grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. I looked down, expecting to see a cat run out the door but was instead greeted by the

[00:24:43] silence of a room with barely any furniture, a small nightstand on the corner and a large grey pillow on the floor next to it. I walked around over the closet area, and just when I was about to open it, I heard the soft cries once again.

[00:25:03] I turned around to look behind the door when I spotted it. Right there on the corner of the room, against the wall and sitting perfectly still, was a doll with dark hair. Her smile etched perfectly on her hard plastic face, the dress old and blue almost reaching

[00:25:30] her white shoes. I slowly walked over to it just as Rita got to the doorway. What I saw was impossible. I saw the doll's arms and her fists gripping tightly around a clump of grey hair. Subscribe to listen to upcoming stories.

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