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Water. It gives us life. We are drawn to it. Yet it holds immense power over us. It can bring unspeakable horror to the most familiar places. Your morning shower, A tranquil riverbank, or the endless ocean. It's time to dive deep into the abyss. From the dark waters of the Cape Fear River. Immerse yourself in horror as you brace yourself for the no Sleep Podcast. Thank you for joining us for the no Sleep podcast. I'm your host, David Cummings. Well, we've reached the penultimate episode of season 24, and what a chillingly fun season it's been. We may be drying off after spending time beneath the dark waters of horror, but the thrills remain unabated. And the no Sleep podcast will continue to come to you from the shores of the Cape Feed Fear River. So there will always be a hint of the dark waters in all we do. We're excited to present our big season 24 finale next week. I hope you'll feel right at home with it. And as we reach the end of this season, it's understandable to take a look back and see if we reach the finish line. Having accomplished all we set out to do, I'd like to think we have. And the thing is, sometimes you begin to seek something or work towards something. Something good, something positive, something that will make you feel better about life and true to the realm of horror in which we reside. Oftentimes, the best intentions end up revealing that not only didn't we accomplish beneficial ends, but we actually ended up in a nightmare from which there is no escape. On our episode this week, we present tales where people really are trying to do positive things. They want the best for themselves and others. But alas, their attempts to spread some light into this world leads to nothing but darkness, as dark as the waters of the Cape Fear River. So brace yourself. It's time to plunge into the horror of our sleepless tales. In our first tale, we meet Allie. She's trying to look after her health, do all the things that will give her vim and vigor. Unfortunately, she's decided that the best advice for her can be found in online forums. And in this tale shared with us by author Gail Maitland, Ali learns that while some people want to give legitimate, helpful advice, others don't. Performing this tale are Mike Delgadio, Sarah Thomas, Atticus Jackson, Ilana Charnell, Dan Zapula, James Cleveland, Jeff Clement, Nicole Goodnight, Jessica McAvoy, Wafia, Matthew Bradford, Jake Benson, and Mary Murphy. So when trying to do what's best for your body, seek help from actual physicians. Otherwise you risk going into a spiral.

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S slash all stupid questions. 1 day ago Advent calendar what is a keyboard warrior?

C

My friends call me a keyboard warrior, but I'm not sure I understand what it means.

A

I do spend a lot of time on Set it trying to understand other perspectives. Sometimes I do ask a lot of

C

questions and I tend to get wordy with my responses. Does that make me a keyboard warrior?

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Sort by oldest Boing boing boobies 1 day ago do you ever throw around inflammatory slurs that would make an old white grin grandpa blush? Then you might be a keyboard warrior. Advent calendar op 1 day ago it

C

depends on how heated the conversation gets. I've been known to call someone a dick bag from time to time.

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Dr. Ruckus 23 hours ago A keyboard

C

warrior is someone who, because of the

A

anonymity of the Internet, has a blank

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check to say whatever they want without consequence. It's pretty great.

B

Allie took a deep breath and pressed Start.

D

This is the last time.

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The machine whooshed signaling the end of the test, and Allie looked down at her reading for the fifth time that morning. 156systolic, 103diastolic. 98bpm fuck, that's too high. Her stomach was in knots. Her pulse thumped in her head as she recorded the history of the day's readings in her log. 124 over 81. 128 over 85. 135 over 92. 140. 98. 156 over 103.

D

Why is it so high?

B

Ellie tried to calm herself, but her heart was galloping and the adrenaline was coursing through her veins. She felt a throbbing deep in her neck she couldn't shake. The thought was seriously wrong.

D

My blood pressure is increasing because a stroke, a heart attack, kidney failure, diabetes, autoimmune disease, dysautonomia. I have health anxiety.

B

She checked her watch. She'd been taking her blood pressure for nearly half an hour. Ally knew she had to get going or she would be late to therapy again.

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I just need one good read. One good read and I can go.

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Ali took a deep breath and pressed Start. S/blood pressure 163 days ago Ali Gator spikes in the morning Stroke worries.

D

I record my blood pressure daily. I take three readings, but if they start to go up, I take a few more. Recently I've been seeing spikes in the mornings. My latest read was 156 over 103. I'm terrified I'm going to have a

B

Stroke sort by Oldest new cat smell 163 days ago that's high.

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I'd go to the ER.

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Alligator op 163 days ago Seriously?

E

OMG.

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Heart health Hannah 163 days ago no,

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you do not need to go to the er. Wait a few minutes and take it again.

E

What was your lowest read?

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Alligator op163 days ago124over81 was my first read. Heart Health Hannah163 days ago why the

D

did you take it again?

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That's perfect.

D

There are plenty of us in this community who would kill for that number. And the highest one too. Have some tea and get on with your day.

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Alligator op163 days ago thank you.

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I needed to hear that.

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Ali's therapist, Brenda, didn't pull any punches. She advised Ally to stop searching, stopped posting and be mindful in the moment.

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Stuck in a reassurance cycle.

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Allie knew the cycle well. One symptom led to a day lost searching the Internet and posting to forums for reassurance. When that symptom no longer weighed on her mind, another would appear. It didn't end until she consciously decided to break from it. And she meant to do just that. If only she hadn't noticed discoloration on her left big toenail. S/skin cancer 159 days ago Allie Gator Spot on toenail Rare melanoma Today I

D

took off my socks and noticed my toenail had a dark spot on it. I tried to scrape it off but it looks like it's under the nail. Bed picture attached could this be a melanoma?

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Sort by oldest melanomama158 days ago maybe that's a smudge.

E

You're fine.

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Lamb Shark 158 days ago yeah, that's nothing to worry about. Not even close to what a melanoma would look like.

C

I wouldn't sweat it.

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Alligator op158 days ago Phew.

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Okay, that eases my mind.

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Fancy a foot? 155 days ago I'm pretty sure that's a fungus and it's fucking disgusting. See a doctor now. Allie walked out of the pharmacy with her prescription antifungal in hand. She'd had no plans to make a last minute appointment until the forum told her she needed to go. Her doctor took one look at the tiny spot of fungus and called in the script.

D

See Brenda, Sometimes the Internet can be helpful.

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S/health anxiety 145 days ago Allie Gator lump near ankle I've been treating a

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Fungus on my toenail for about 10 days now and it looks much better. However, when I was checking out my nail, I noticed a lump near my ankle. It feels like soft and movable. Everything I look up says it's soft tissue sarcoma. I'm coming to this anxiety forum first before any illness forum. My therapist suggestion. I'm terrified. I've been researching for two days straight and I'm convinced I have cancer.

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Sort by oldest. Any anxiety 145 days ago Dr. Internet

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is not your friend. You need to stop searching and relax. Point it out at your next appointment and your doctor will probably tell you the same thing.

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Alligator op 145 days ago it's so scary, isn't it?

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I barely want to shower anymore because I'm terrified of finding something that shouldn't be there. My therapist calls it exposure therapy, but I don't want to be exposed.

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Any anxiety 145 days ago do some grounding exercises.

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It always helps me. Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. Get off the Internet you can get through this.

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Alligator op 145 days ago

D

you're right. I need to put the Internet away and stop poking at the lump. I saw that it could be a cyst. That's probably all it is. Unless it starts growing, I'm most likely fine. Right?

B

Any anxiety 145 days ago stop self

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diagnosing, turn your mind off and come back in a few days.

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Alligator op 145 days ago easier said than done.

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I'm not concerned. Come back if you notice it growing.

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That was the worst thing the doctor could have said to Ali. Every day before work she measured the lump on her ankle. And every day after work she measured again. And every day before bed. And every night when she woke up to pee. 2.6 centimeters.

D

Is that big? It feels big. The Internet says if it's a sarcoma, under 5cm is okay. I'm okay. That's not bad. I still have time.

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2.3 centimeters.

D

Oh my God. It's shrinking. Okay, this is good news.

B

2.3 cm.

D

It's the same as it was this morning. Phew. I think I can stop measuring it so often.

B

2.7 centimeters.

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It's growing fast. I'm gonna die.

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S/ anxiety 145 days ago Alligator lump near ankle expand sort by Oldest Ali Gator OP138 days ago Me again.

D

I went to the doctor and she told me it's fine and to come back if it grows. I've been measuring it every day and it's gone from 2.6cm to 2.7cm. What do I do?

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Any anxiety? 138 days ago hey Ali.

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I'm sure she means if it grows exponentially, but you can call her to see. I'm sorry. I know how this must be weighing on your mind.

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Alligator op138 days ago I did call her.

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She said to stop measuring and I'll know when it grows. It won't be overnight, but I keep checking multiple times a day.

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How do I stop any anxiety? 137 days ago you need to refocus.

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Stop searching, stop measuring. Read a book, see a movie, get out and go for a walk. Retrain your mind. Everything you see on the Internet will scare you. So stay off the Internet.

B

Dr. Ruckus 134 days ago has the

A

lump continued to increase?

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Alligator OP 134 days ago OMG.

E

Why should I be worried?

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Is my doctor not taking me seriously?

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Alligator OP 133 days ago Doctor, are you there? Dr. Ruckus 131 days ago A growth

C

of 0.1 centimeter in a single day is a major red flag. Make an appointment now.

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Any anxiety? 131 days ago Ali, get off the Internet. Ali hung up the phone on the verge of tears.

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She'll see me in six months for a follow up. How can I wait six months if this lump keeps growing?

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Shaking, Ali grabbed for her ruler again. 2.7 cm. She marked the perimeter of the lump with a permanent marker. S slash health anxiety 145 days ago alligator lump near ankle expand sort by oldest. Alligator op 130 days ago my doctor won't see me.

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She said to come back for a follow up in six months.

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Any anxiety? 129 days ago she knows what she's talking about.

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Trust her.

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Twitchy Pete 129 days ago Just catching

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up here, but it sounds like you're really spiraling.

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Ally, we've all been there.

A

The only way out is to cut

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this off, put trust in your doctor

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and stop measuring every day.

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Alligator op 129 days ago attached is a photo.

D

Does it look big?

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Any anxiety? 128 days ago did you draw on your leg? Alligator OP 128 days ago where the

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outline of the lump is? Did it outgrow the circle?

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Any anxiety? 128 days ago no.

D

Wash that off your leg. Do you Live with anybody. Can they distract you?

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Ally Gatorop 127 days ago I'm separated Annie Anxiety 127 days ago Are you

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still in contact with your spouse?

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Allie Gator OP125 days ago Sorry it

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took so long to respond. I called him yesterday, but he hung up on me when I begged him to come measure this goddamn lump. He can't help me any.

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Anxiety 125 days ago I'm sorry.

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Allie.

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Allie Gator OP 125 days ago it's my fault.

D

After his skin cancer diagnosis, I panicked. I kept insisting he check my moles. It triggered my health anxiety and the separation. I know it was insensitive. I couldn't control myself. But this is different. He's totally in remission. And I'm seeing a therapist. And I just know there's something fucked up with this lump. Look at the newest picture. It's definitely bigger, right?

B

Twitchy Pete 124 days ago Looks the same to me. Dr. Ruckus 123 days ago the mass has certainly grown.

C

Your doctor won't see you.

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Alligator OP 123 days ago oh, I'm gonna throw up. Dr. Ruckus 122 days ago you really

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need to get that taken care of. It's extremely concerning.

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Ellie rubbed her finger along her lump, rolling it back and forth under her skin. Her breath was ragged. She took the box cutter off the burner and sat down.

D

Just a little incision. Just enough to pop it out.

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She took a swig of bourbon and braced herself.

D

I just have to get this out of me.

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Allie touched the blade against the black markings on her skin and pressed down. S/ anxiety 145 days ago Alligator lump near ankle expand sort by oldest alligator op119 days ago I did it.

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It's out. See?

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Photo Annie anxiety 119 days ago Ally,

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what the fuck did you do?

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Twitchy Pete 119 days ago Girl, you

A

need some serious help.

B

Dr. Ruckus 119 days ago it has malignant characteristics.

C

Are you sure that's the only mass

B

any anxiety 118 days ago are you

D

even a real doctor?

B

In the shower the droplets formed on the waterproof bandage around her ankle as Allie grazed her hands over her body, feeling every inch. She reached around the curtain to the sink and grabbed the permanent marker.

D

I have to find them all.

B

S/health anxiety 145 days ago Alligator lump near ankle expand sort By Oldest Annie Anxiety109 days ago Ali, how are you doing now? Alligator OP106 days ago I am okay. Twitchy Pete 105 days ago I hope

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you got some stitches and antibiotics for

B

that gaping wound on your ankle. Alligator op 104 days ago it barely hurts. Any anxiety? 104 days ago do not let an

D

Internet doctor scare you. You're okay. Just take care of your mental health and the rest will fall into place.

B

Dr. Ruck 101 days ago did you find more lumps? Alligator OP 101 days ago yes Dr. Ruckus 99 days ago they need to be addressed.

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This will multiply and grow and you will die, Ali. You will die if they're not removed.

B

In her empty tub, Allie continued to self operate. All in all, she found 29 lumps that she circled from the top of her forehead down to the inside of her right foot as she operated top to bottom. Her left eye was half open and laser focused. Her right eye had swollen shut, sliced in an attempt to remove a minuscule bump. Could it have been a sty? Maybe, but she couldn't chance it. Her groin. This was going to be the worst one. She dragged her blade along the inside of her thigh and pushed her fingers into the wet, hot, open laceration. She felt not one, not two, but three lumps. Lymph nodes. Lymphoma?

E

Holy shit.

D

This is cancer.

B

Allie dug deeper, groping at the round masses attached to her sinewy muscle. Her soft moans of fear muffled the cries of pain that begged to escape.

D

My whole leg is diseased.

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With no time to reconsider, Allie took the bloodied blade and slid it from groin to heel. Her arms sunk into the open flesh, pulling out anything that felt foreign to her touch. S/health anxiety 145 days ago Allie Gator lump near ankle expand. Sort By Oldest Annie Anxiety 86 days

D

ago Allie, how are you Hanging in there?

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Twitchy Pete81 days ago

A

yeah Op. Update us when you can.

C

That was just a cyst, right?

A

I bet the doctors went nuts when

C

they saw your home operation.

B

Dr. Ruckus 69 days ago did you

C

remove all the masses?

B

Any anxiety?

D

69 days ago you ali blocked this guy. He's just a cowardly keyboard warrior.

B

Dr. Ruckus 66 days ago I'm here to help. Twitchy Pete 66 days ago you're here

A

to drive someone crazy.

B

Any anxiety? 65 days ago Just because you can

D

say whatever you want doesn't mean you should. Has anyone heard From Ali?

B

Alligator op 3 days ago Tayy Dr.

D

Thy friendly helped me.

B

Allie slowly worked her scarred fingers to type her sedate. At response, the nurse on duty changed Allie's full body bandages with a look of both pity and disgust. Allie's bedside sat empty while the remains of her mangled flesh trudged along the road to recovery. She looked up at the blood pressure monitor, soothed by its rhythmic beeping.

D

They finally helped me.

B

She checked her numbers. 138 over 94.

D

That's too high.

C

Foreign.

A

Let's take a short break for our sponsors who help us keep our heads above water for waves of ad free horror content. Join our Sleepless Universe by going to Sleepless the no Sleep Podcast. After that story, I'm thankful that this episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. You don't have to be as bad off as Ali to realize how helpful therapy can be. Let's face it, we're talking a lot more these days about our mental health, and that's a good thing. But there's still a stigma attached to getting help for it. For some reason, treating your physical health is considered normal, but treating your mental health is seen as a weakness. And get this BetterHelp's 2026 State of Stigma report surveyed 2,000Americans and revealed that 85% of Americans believe getting support is wise, yet 74% say society discourages people from doing so. I know we have many listeners who have sought help for their mental health. So have I, and I'm glad our community is far more open to it than some others. That's why BetterHelp is such a faithful sponsor of our show. Their qualified therapists, their therapist match commitment, and their ease of online sessions means that more than 1.7 million people consider BetterHelp to be an outstanding source of mental health support. So don't let stigma stand in the way of support. Start therapy with BetterHelp. Sign up and get 10% off at betterhelp.com nosleep that's betterhelp.com nosleep and speaking of physical health, I've been talking about my weight loss journey. Part of that journey means I'm looking to stay hydrated with the right level of electrolytes. That's why I subscribe to Drip Drop. But these days you don't have to be working out to need good hydration. The weather has been hot as ball hot as blazes out there lately, so if you're sweating, you need Drip Drop. Drip Drop is the doctor developed powder that provides proven fast hydration that helps my body and mind work better. Drip Drop uses science based formulas for rapid hydration so you feel results fast while getting three times the electrolytes of leading sports drinks. Drip Drop is trusted by over 90% of top college and pro sports teams because it's engineered to hydrate you faster and more effectively than water alone. There are 16 original flavors and eight zero sugar plus options that fit seamlessly into my routine. In fact, I'm literally sipping some right now as I record this. So come on, join me. Right now. Drip Drop is offering sleepless listeners 20% off. Your first order. Go to dripdrop.com and use promo code NOSLEEP. That's dripdrop.com promo code no sleep for 20% off. Stock up now@dripdrop.com and use promo code nosleep. Now let's plunge back into the deep waters of horror. When parents treat their children poorly, the results can be devastating. Almost as bad is when parents abandon their children altogether. The child can be left seeking answers. And in this tale shared with us by author Joe Procet, we meet a woman who drives a big rig for a living across the highways and byways of the land. And she's searching for her father, who left her many years ago. But let's just say a heartfelt family reunion isn't in the cards for her. Performing this tale is Lindsay Russo. So make sure your rig is working properly when putting many miles on it. You gotta have all the right gear, especially a tire thumper.

E

All you guys don't have jurisdiction over me anyway. You're from some sheriff's department. Yeah, see, we're all not from the same place. Yeah, and where it happened, it happened in my world, not yours. You don't have authority. I don't belong to all you guys. I'm a citizen of the highway. The interstate, the transient places, the liminal spaces, the spaces in between. Copy. The places you pass through without even stopping. The veins that carry the lifeblood of this country through the flesh without the flesh even knowing it. When you ask where I'm from, you're probably thinking some city or some state or such and such county. You hear my accent and you think, maybe the Midwest or maybe down south or maybe up north. Maybe from someplace foreign. Well, I'll solve the mystery for you. It's from trucker land. I'm an orphan of the road. Lived my whole life there. And one day, by the brace of God, I'll die there. So if anyone's gonna arrest me, it's gotta be the highway patrol. Any one of them. Arizona, Iowa, Texas, Missouri, Georgia, Kansas. Doesn't Matter which. Just not the likes of you. Besides, you haven't even asked me about the first killing I'd done. I'll confess to it. Although that first one, yeah, he came after me. I didn't want nothing from him, but he wanted everything from me, so. So, so as to defend myself, I gave him the tire thumper. Real thudder, that one. The two you asking about. There was no crime done with either of them either. Especially the last one. That last one dinged. Well, why don't I go ahead and tell you about the first one then, seeing as I was the one who brought it up. It happened in a marshalling yard outside of Vegas near the airport. A place tucked neatly between the airport and the Strip. A place all the tourists and convention goers rely on but never see. Place at chain link fences, old Jersey barriers, tractorless trailers and sprawling concrete where the only shade came from the rumble of overhead turbines. See, when my father abandoned me and when I struck out on my own, I was already a member of a different, much larger family. Harriet, who works the tolls out on the Pennsylvania Turnpike around mile marker 70. She was like my very own nana who always had a sweet treat ready for me anytime we passed through. Randy, out at the bird bath along i80, said I always reminded him of his little sister. And Carlos, the fry cook at the Double D Cafe in Joplin. He was like an older brother to me. Charlene, the waitress at the QC Coffee and Pancake House in Davenport. She was one of my many step mamas. You know, I got a funny joke about that town. They say it's only a real Davenport if it comes from the Davenport region of Iowa. Otherwise, it's just a sparkling couch. I know it's not very good. Never was much of a comedian, but I try. But I digress. As they say, it happened in the marshalling yacht in Vegas, next to the airport. I was in my bobtail because after my dad abandoned me and since I had nowhere to stay, the fellows at KNG Transportation let me borrow it. And, well, after so long of them not asking for it back, it sort of became my own. So that's where I was parked up for a spell. See, that's what I'm trying to explain to you guys, that you're not picking up my bobtail. That was my home. And sure, when I was desperate for a paycheck, I'd pick up a reefer and haul it out to Sioux Falls or drag a wiggle wagon up to Grand Forks or move a dry van from Barstow. Out to Flagstaff. I'd get to where I was going. And Flip never stayed in any of those places. It was always turn and burns for me. I stayed, I lived, I belonged in the slender places. Wait, what state is this again, huh? Anyway, I was staying a spell at this. This marshalling yard and some stranger I'd never met before took me for something I wasn't and thought he could con me into giving up some companionship in his sleeper cab. Well, when I said no, he said yes. And we had ourselves a bit of a disagreement over that. Thing he didn't know was that I carry my tire thumper on me at all times. I always wear my backpack anytime I'm outside of the cab and poking up out the top is always the butt end of my thumper. Oh, these guys don't know what a tire thumper is. The bears on the highway would. It's no different than a nightstick or a billy club. About the same length, usually made a hickory, so they're good and durable. Yours are usually painted black, though. Ours are wood grained. Anywho, when I said no and he said yes and we couldn't see eye to eye over that, I introduced him to my thumper. Am I a what you you saying that to? To offend me, trying to insult me, but only goes to show how ignorant you are. No, I'm not a lot lizard, but I've known plenty of them and I'm proud of it. They're wonderful people, people like that. People who have had everything taken from them till the point that they've got nothing left to give but themselves. They understand others. They have empathy and not just false sympathy. Because whatever you've gone through, chances are they've gone through worse. So they can relate. Copy. You can't, can you? Probably. How you feel about truckers too. Long haulers more so than day trippers. Is my bed. Because the day trippers, yeah, they're one of use guys. Use guys who have a place and a home and a neighborhood and a community that exists off of rubber and asphalt. But it's like the late, great and still missing Jimmy Hoffa once said, if you're eating it, drinking it, wearing it, driving it, riding it, sitting on it, sleeping or on it, a trucker brought it to you. People forget he was the head of the teamsters, head of the truckers union, that is. Most people just figure he's the guts of a bridge abutment these days. He was a good man. Even if he's nothing more than the sausage inside A bridge piling casing nowadays. As for my thumper, it's not a murder weapon, not by nature. I mean, you can pick one up at any loves or flyin J or ta or mom and pop shop, truck stop. It's a tool to check if you got air in your tires when you got 18 of them. It can take a hot minute to go around with the pressure gauge and check each and every one of them, especially the ones on the inside. So you take a thumper and give each tire a nice quick bop. But you gotta know how to listen. Pretty obvious youse guys don't know how to listen. As evident by this very conversation. But I'll try and explain it for you. When you bop a full tire, it'll sorta sing back to you. There's a ring. I mean, there's all kinds of resonant noises. There's a smack, a whack, a thud. But if it's good and pressurized and you hit it right, that tire will ring out just like a bell. A low tire, on the other hand, a low tire just thuds that creeper in the Vegas marshalling yard. When I thumped him, he just went thud. So yeah, I killed him. But it wasn't murder. He had it coming. The other two, on the other hand. Well, I told you how my my dad abandoned me. He raised me since before I could remember. Riding shotgun on the air suspension seat just like I was Fred the basset hound from Smokey and the Bandit. Head out the window, pigtails flopping all around like Fred's ears. Just there to keep my dad company. Really. Never knew my biological mom. My dad took me from her when I was real young and she must have been okay with that. Or maybe just didn't know how to come running after me because I never heard from her again. She lives somewhere out here off the highway, outside of trucker land. She was one of you. Maybe still is one of you, if she's still kicking, if you catch my drift. He homeschooled me in the cab of a flat nosed Kent Werthle. Although I always liked the Mack trucks with the bulldog hood ornament. That's how come when KNG offered me my own bobtail, I insisted it be a Mac. That way I'd always have a God dog with me. But his was a Kentwood and that's where I went to school. He taught me math and reading and how to drive, even though he said it wasn't proper for a lady to drive a rig. And for a couple of Years. We both decided to learn Spanish and that's all we spoke while we were on the road. See, you learned me real good. That wink means I know I'm bullshitting in case you're too thick. And by the shape of that potato head of yours, I'm guessing you are. But at any rate, I figure my dad must have gotten tired of me. And after a while I wasn't his little girl anymore. I was a teenager and probably a big old pain in his lumpy ass. Maybe I sassed too much. Maybe he didn't want to be seen as a middle aged guy with a much younger woman hanging out in his cab all the time. Maybe he thought I was all done growing up and he had nothing left to teach me. Maybe he didn't want me fighting him for the wheel. Maybe he found somebody better. When he left me there at that greasy spoon diner in Wichita. I didn't have a clue. You know how you people, and by you people I mean the non citizens of Chakra Land. You know how you people will make jokes about dads leaving their families saying I'm gonna go get some cigarettes and they never come back? Well, for my dad it wasn't cigarettes or a gallon of milk or nothing like that. He said he was going to the bathroom. And while I sat sucking down my vanilla and strawberry malt at the Norman Rockwell counter of that diner, I heard the hammer drop on that a big old diesel and spun around on my stool and there went dad and his Kenworth onto the i35 on ramp and out of my life. No reasons, no excuses, no explanations. So you can understand why I sought answers. And starting out, that's all I wanted. I knew if I kept my own hammer down and kept that bobtail on the highway stuck to the liminal spaces of America, the shipping yards, the way stations, the rest stops, the interstate, porno shops, the strip clubs, the stockyards, the distribution centers, the. All those places that people like you take for granted. I knew if I kept on trucking eventually I'd find him somewhere between Bozeman and Albany, Duluth and San Antonio, Yuma and Charlotte. Somewhere along the interstate I'd find him. And I told myself when I did, I was just gonna ask him why. Fair enough. Question. Ain't was a wide search area, no doubt about it. I give that to you. But all those places, that's where I was going anyway. That's where I belonged. Those places are my home. I asked around a lot, my family put their ears on and I'd. I'd. Hear that he'd come passing through a rest stop last week. Or that he'd picked up a load from a distribution center two days before. Or that somebody had thought they'd seen him deadheading through Cincinnati in that hammer lane just yesterday. I was always a step behind. That's why I didn't like to take on too many loads. Once you have a load, you gotta get it to where it's going, regardless. If you heard your daddy was now a suicide jockey with a hazmat barrel on the way to Carlsbad or some such place. All things being the same, for those first few years, all I wanted to do was catch up to him and ask him why. Then I figured I could take on the business full time, buy my Mack truck outright from K and G and commit to the life. Till then, I stayed on the hunt. But something happened in that marshland yacht in Vegas, out by the airport, when I thumped that jerk who wanted to put his little baby pickle inside of my jar brine when I caught him good upside the head and he went thump with no resonance. See, I thumped the tires on my bobtail more times than I can count. I knew how to listen. That wouldn't stick. And those chunks of rubber, they sang to me when I clobbered that creeper in Vegas. His head, it didn't. But I knew whose head would sing. Portent, you copy me. Come on now, good buddy. Well, seeing as you've got nothing to say to that, I guess I'll carry on with my story. My family, after they saw me making my way without my dad, they took me in in a very nomadic sort of way. And henceforth they turned on my dad for what he'd done. He started finding snag in his burgers at the roadside diners. Started getting bumped in line at way stations and passed up in the shower lines at truck stops. Got his nuts stomped on by Gwendolyn. She danced at the Derby Club outside of Casper. And once she learned who he was, well, let's just say that lap dance took a turn. No more warnings from any member of any highway patrol. Neither Chief Newman of the Kansas State Patrol had it out for him in particular. See, even the bears knew what he'd done and hated him for it just as much as my Auntie Charlene or Nana Harriet or my big brother Carlos, the fry cook, Chief Newman. He knew my intentions and it didn't bother him one bit. Said he might do it himself if he caught up with my dad before I did. Oh, does that Surprise you. You didn't think I had any family in law enforcement? Well, some of those highway officers, the good ones, they're citizens of trucker land too. See, I got family everywhere. Dad on the other hand, yeah, he was ostracized by his own kind. A vagabond amongst vagabonds. So what he'd go and do, he changed his name, took on a whole different Persona just cuz he was too much of a coward to square up with his own daughter. Years went by, as years tend to do. I took on more jobs. But seeing as how I wasn't supporting a traditional family or paying for a mortgage or any of that nonsense, I didn't have to work all that often. Visited all of my family from Maine to California, Washington to Florida. Never got to Canada or Mexico. Not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't have any kind of birth certificate or ID or passport. You know, I never even got my cdl, just been doing it for so long. Folks sort of accepted me as like a common law trucker, if you get me. But I saw the country. More country than most folks know exists. The late great Mark Twain told us that travel is the antidote for ignorance. Said it's fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow mindedness. That's something us folks in truckerland have in common. We take in all kinds. And just like any family, sometimes we fight. But at the end of the day we come to understand each other all the more. So I damn near plump forgot about my father and how he'd abandoned me. I had my rig and I had my relations and I had the whole country laid out beyond my little God dog food ornament begging to be explored. I thought I'd found peace, maybe not satisfaction, but failing that, homeostasis. And then we caught up. It was at the turnpike travel plaza out along I70, one of those places where normal folks in my family intersect. I mean, even in those places things are a bit segregated. Trucks to the left, car to the right, as the signs say. Well, I'd gotten my shower ticket and was burning time perusing the tourist souvenir sweatshirts and shot glasses and little statues of indians and headdresses slouched over on horseback. And then like a ghost from a previous life, he strolled right by me. Didn't look my way, didn't even notice me. But I recognized him immediately. It was as if nothing had changed during the passing of all those in between years and miles and through all second cities. Nobody ever intends to visit it was like he hadn't aged a day. I know I've aged. I've come a long way from that little girl. He left with her vanilla and strawberry malt. More scars, more wrinkles, more stories, more memories. But I remembered him. So I followed him out of the Turnpike Travel Plaza building, over the curbs and the medians to the trucker side of the trucks to the left cost to the right divide, through a whole passel of tractor trailers, crept behind real quiet. So he was none the wiser when I saw he was headed to his rig to a Rooster cruiser, semi and reefer parked in the potty row at the very back of the lot. I hung behind a tanker trailer and watched. He had some food from the store and when he opened the door of his cab a lady of the night came stepping down. I guess part of the negotiation was that he'd buy your dinner after. Or maybe it wasn't, because after watching for a bit it was clear he owed her more than just an overcooked hot dog fresh off the rollers and a can of coke. They squabbled, he bitched, he shoved her around. And it was then that I made my decision. For a while it was all just curiosity, not malice. Not yet anyway. I was dumbfounded, having finally crossed paths after all these years of crisscrossing the country. How it was we'd occupied the same rat maze but never wound up honing in on the same cheese. And how was it he looked? The very same as he had the day we split ways. Well, I'd gone from a little girl to a full grown woman. How'd he manage that? And how was he still young and dumb and full of enough piss and vinegar to argue with a woman over how much she'd earned bouncing in the back of his sleeper cab? Curiosity, see. But when I saw him push her when her pumps caught in the ruts and she went ass first into the mud, and then when he had the gall to throw that nasty old burnt hot dog at her and mess up her nice clothes with ketchup and mustard and leave her there outside his cabin. Yeah, it was clear he hadn't grown up one day since the time he'd left me. So I waited for the woman to gather herself up and haul her ass off to some other cab to negotiate a better deal. And I waited for him to get settled in and comfortable in his sleeper the whole time, my temperature rising and the good part of my mind trying to convince the bad part that the past was better left in the past. And I should hop back in my own rig and hightail it for Little Rock, where I was supposed to be going anyway. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. My tire thumper had found my hand, and I was certain I'd finally found the tire that would being real nice when I bopped it. Finally, I broke. I came from around the tanker trailer with the thumper in hand, and I went right up to the door of that cab. It read Johnston and Son Truckin'. And then I knew what he'd changed his name to. Something common and ubiquitous, something unsuspecting only I'd seen through his camouflage. So when I got to the door, I knocked on it with the end of my thumper, crouched real low so as not to be seen, and snuck around to the front of the truck. The engine was still warm, heat radiating off the grill. He never stayed in any place for long either. Always on the run, I suppose. And then the driver's door opened and a man stepped out. And as the open door sort of guides a person toward the back of the truck, he went that way, cussing at the whore he'd just sniffed. And I came up behind him, seeing red. Seeing all those years how he'd done without me. Seeing all the places where we'd once stopped and gotten to know. And then seeing them all again, all alone as a reminder of how much he lied and how little he loved. And seeing how he was still doing it, turning women out without so much as a care in a selfish little mind. So I didn't give him a chance. I came up behind him with that thumper tight and two fists, and I let him have it. I was Babe Ruth. I was Harmon Killer Brew. I was Jose Canseco. I was Sammy Sosa. I was Mickey Mantle. And his head was a little white ball with red stitches. Electric bolts of lightning shot at my arms. When I made contact, it turned my hands numb and turned his head into wet spaghetti. He crumbled into the dirt. And then I came down on him like he was a log and I was splitting wood. And, oh, did he split. You know how they call it gray matter? Well, I can tell you that's only somewhat true. When I cracked him open, the blood was good and red and wet, much like a watermelon with jagged cracks and crimson guts. It was only after the blood drained away that the pulp inside showed gray. Also sort of like a watermelon, how the meat turns white if it dries out a bit. Anywho, I killed him good and dead Copy. No doubt about it. No forensics or autopsy needed. But you know what the damnedest thing was? My tire thumper in his head. They didn't sing. There was none of those resonant harmonics like when you hit a good high pressure hunk of road rubber. I was for certain they would. Just like all 18 wheels on a road ready rig. Ought to, but nope, just big thick thuds each hit. It wasn't something that slowed me down or made me stop while I was doing it. But after I was done, I'll admit it confused me a bit. Would have given his melon a few more whacks to see if I'd heard it wrong, if his head wasn't already busted up enough to just go splash, splash, splash. Then the strangest thing happened, Something I never saw coming. While I stood over the dead body of the man I'd been searching for for all those years. The door of the cab opened back up. I turned to see, and here was this other fella, a bigger guy, an older guy, but an uncannily familiar fellow, climbing down the steps. And then he turned to face me, saw the mess of a murder I'd made next to his rigor trailer, and stood there all shocked and surprised. Can you want to guess who it was? I mean, how you already know? You got his body waiting in the cooler down in the basement, too. Although perhaps you ain't quite identified him yet unless you got Dentist on staff. But you guessed it, that fat old bag of wind. He was my dad, all hunchbacked and wrinkled and gray as he should be for all the miles he had in the rearview mirror. And then he shut the door of the cab and I saw the name of his business all scrawled out in fancy cursive writing. Johnston and Son Trucking. And then I put it together. I wasn't just abandoned, I was replaced. By his son, of course. Cause never in his mind had he ever thought a daughter could be an equal, plain business partner. Well, I showed him, didn't I? I showed him good. And this time when I swung for the fences, the whole damn crowd cheered for that home run. Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the ball game, they sang, and I'd buy him peanuts and Cracker Jacks. You bet your ass. When that tire thumper came upside his big old round melon, it was like a clapper in a bell. Bing, bong, bing. Oh, my Lord, how you should have heard it. He stayed on his feet for the first few hits, but I went Swinging from the left and then swinging from the right, taking turns on each side of his head. I bet he stayed on his feet for a good half dozen hits each time. It was like the Bells of St Mary on Sunday morning. That was one high pressure ahead. It got all deformed and mush shaped in the process. But even after he toppled to the ground and I came down on him like I was swatting horseflies, it still sang. See, I found the right one. It wasn't the creeper out by the Vegas airport marshalling yard. It wasn't my own illegitimate brother who went all broken watermelon behind me. This was the man who'd done me wrong. And my tire thumper never sounded so right. So there you have it. Full confession and all that. Got me on your little tape recorder and everything. So what are you gonna do now? I tell you what you're gonna do. You're gonna turn this over to the proper authority. You're gonna hand me over to the office that has jurisdiction over somebody like me. Think you're not? We are in Kansas, are we not? You think my family don't talk? You don't think we look out for our own? You think Mellie over at the Travel Plaza ain't already sent out the word? Chief Newman, is that you? Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes. Hey, last I saw you, you didn't recognize my rig and wanted to punch my ticket for blowing that chicken coop outside of Dodge City. It's been way too long. I'd give you a big old hug if it wasn't a for the steel bracelets. These put me in a. I missed you, too, Uncle Newman. Well, fellas, it's been fun. You make sure to give those two cool in their heels in the basement my regards. And what I mean by that is. Tell them to rot in hell for me, will you? See you on the road, boys.

A

The horror keeps flowing. After a word from the folks who make all this free content possible. It's safe to say that woman was rather transparent about her motivations. Right, but there are things in life that you don't want to be transparent, like your swimsuit or your search history. But when it comes to your wireless bill, transparency is everything. That's why Mint Mobile's wireless plans have no gimmicks and no gotchas. Just high speed data and reliable coverage on the T Mobile 5G network. And right now, all plans are $15 per month, even unlimited. Mint Mobile took what's wrong with wireless and made it right with Premium Wireless for 15 bucks a month. You can even bring your current phone and your number. Choose from 3, 6 or 12 month plans and say goodbye to a monthly bill. So ditch overpriced wireless with Mint Mobile. It's so easy. Sign up online and get three months of premium wireless service for 15 bucks a month. To get your new wireless plan for just 15 bucks a month month go to mintmobile.com no sleep that's mintmobile.com no sleep cut your wireless bill to just 15 bucks a month at mintmobile.com no sleep that'S IT. There's no catch. Upfront payment of 45 for 3 months, $90 for 6 months or 180 for 12 months. Plan required 15 per month equivalent taxes and fees Extra initial plan term Only greater than 50 megabytes may slow when network is busy. Includes up to 20 gigabyte hotspot capable device required availability, speed and coverage varies. See mintmobile.com now let's plunge back into the deep waters of horror. Small towns across the land can be quaint, and they can have their own unique traditions, festivals and celebrations in which the townsfolk gladly participate. So let's head over to a particular town where it's Mother's Day. But in this tale shared with us by author Ryan Marie Ketterer, this town does something special for Mother's Day every 10 years. And we're in luck because it's time for their special parade. I join in and perform this tale along with Jesse Cornett, Nicole Goodnight, Wafia White, Mary Murphy, Aaron Lillis, Dan Zapula, Matthew Bradford, and Jeff Clement. So if you've ever heard the phrase save the drama for your mama, you'll soon understand what that means to the residents of East Marion.

C

East Marion was, despite its name in the western part of the state. It was snuggled alongside I47, an interstate highway used by travelers just passing through on their way somewhere more interesting. In fact, i47 curved perfectly around the small town. Rather than slicing straight over homes and businesses like major interstates normally did, those that drove this part of i47 noted an eerie stillness settling around them. It was as if something was trying to slow their progress, as if their cars were forced to drive through dense clouds and thick sludge. At the very peak of this i47 curve, there was a single exit, exit 3. For those familiar with this area, exit 3 was the only exit that led directly to East Marion, specifically by way of a long straight road creatively named Main Street. All other routes to East Marion were winding and inefficient a woman who went by the name of Bonnie. Whether or not this is her real name does not matter had taken up temporary encampment outside the East Marion Wawa. The employees of the gas station needed to shoo the wandering woman away before the town's exciting day could begin. Upon leaving the trash riddled gas station pavement, Bonnie made her way down Main Street. On this day the road was particularly busy with the residents frantically preparing for the East Marion Mother's Day parade. Despite her sunken eyes and drooping jowls, the residents of East Marion were friendly into Bonnie's face, keeping their true judgments hidden within. Martha Moore waved one hand while the other clasped a child's hand. Hey there, Kathy Jackson shouted from across the street, pushing a pram.

D

Welcome to East Marion.

E

Do let us know if you need help finding your way around. Don't let the folks here overwhelm you.

C

Bonnie was unable to reply before Delia Owens hurried off scolding a young boy pretending to have a sword fight on a skateboard. These were not the only children that Bonnie could see. Kids of all ages bound around the town center, playing and crying and yelling as kids do. Their similarity in appearance to one another was striking, but Bonnie did not care enough. The three story glass clock tower of the East Marion Credit Union struck noon and the bell's jingle echoed throughout the small town square. This hypnotic little tune brought about a sense of belonging and hope for every resident of East Marion. For Bonnie, though, it simply reminded her that now might be a good time to eat as her stomach stomach grumbled loud enough that everyone nearby might hear. Inside the small and fairly empty East Marion Diner, the drifting woman ate eggs and bacon, scalding her mouth not once but twice on the burnt coffee and

E

down for the parade.

C

Bonnie said no to the waitress, that she was just passing through and that she hoped to lose leave before things got busy. In the far corner of the diner, sitting in a cramped booth outside of Bonnie's line of sight, the only other patron spun a padlock on his finger as he observed the drifter. While Bonnie scraped the last vestiges of scrambled eggs from a scuffed ceramic dish, the ladies of East Marion bustled I outside. Martha Moore was signaling to some teenagers who held a pop up tent.

D

Those will be lined up along here behind the barricades.

C

Kathy Jackson beamed as she looked at the desserts spread across several tables.

D

The cake came out beautiful, didn't it?

E

East the Marion red and gold.

C

Delia Owens held a colorful array of balloons. Balloons and tried to get the attention of the skateboarding boy who now jabbed an invisible enemy.

E

Pass me the tape.

C

Slowly but surely, Main street in East Marion was transforming. The town already had a strong sense of pride, but every effort was made to ensure that parade day was the most special day in East Marion. Not all things were going smooth, smoothly, though. Elsewhere, the men argued. Mark Moore was angry, pointing fingers.

B

You must have left the cage open.

E

I locked it, same as always.

C

Charles Jackson attempted to defend himself, but there was an undercurrent of doubt in his voice. The cage has never failed me. Ray Owens confidence was always welcome, but plainly useless in this situation. The missing parade star presented a true danger to the residents of East Marion and was thus frightful enough to call in the mayor. When the men first summoned Mayor Samuel Lewis, they were nervous he would be angry with them. But the folks of East Marion needn't have worried about each other's temperaments. Even in the most stressful situations, East Marionettes kept their cool.

A

While eating lunch, I thought of the perfect idea.

C

Mayor Samuel's alternative had put the man at ease. I'm so glad Mayor Samuel has found us a replacement.

B

It's not like we could have a parade without it. I knew Mayor Samuel would come through.

C

Charles Jackson smiled at the other two men, feeling accomplished as Ray Owens jumped onto one of the floats. Time to rig them up, I suppose. The East Marian Mother's Day parade was a bit different than the parades held in other towns. To start, there were only two floats. Both were identical, simple floating things, a metal bar jutting from a sparkling clean, dark stained wooden floor. The bar stood approximately five feet high, loose ropes hanging from the top. With a solution to their dilemma, the men carried on readying for the coming parade. Back downtown, Main street was flourishing. The women corralled the children and jockeyed for the best view.

D

I can't wait to see the new one.

C

Kathy Jackson was laughing as she shook a rattling toy in front of her pram.

D

Hard to believe it's been a whole decade.

A

I still feel buzzed from the last time.

C

Delia Owens shook her head at the passage of time.

E

The years certainly flew by.

C

By now the crowds had gathered, clogging the sidewalks. Children tried running past the barriers into the closed street before the adults pulled them back. The distant thunder of drums began and the jumpy crowd simmered. The brass and woodwinds soon followed as the East Move Marian High School song became audible. The crowd began to chant, Go East Marion Cougars. The high school band emerged on Main street and the crowd went wild behind them. The color guard spun and contorted, all while holding massive flags with the town's emblem. Go East Marion Cougars. With the crowd in a proper frenzy, it was showtime. Mayor Samuel Lewis stopped the floats from moving into view.

A

Welcome everyone, to the ninth Decennial East Marion Mother's Day Parade. Today marks the natural 90th year our small and resilient town has said no.

C

The crowd erupted. Go East, Maran Cougars.

A

Ninety years since we said no to the medical risks associated with childbirth.

C

More cheers. Go east marion con cougars.

A

90 years since we said no to destroying the bodies of the beautiful women in our community, our wives.

C

The crowd danced and celebrated with passion

A

the children and the women who raised us. Today we all come together not only to celebrate what we've accomplished here in East Marion, but also to retire mother 8 and usher in a new generation, a new decade. I can't wait for you all to see Mother nine.

C

Go East, Marian Cougars. The first float moved into view and paused before the rock as townspeople. Mother 8 hung from the once loose ropes tied to the float's metal bar. Her thin wrists were knotted above her head and her limp body hung all the way down to the beautiful stained float floor, her pale white skin exposed in the bright spring sun. The men had done a Great job cleaning mother 8. Her hair was shaved head, armpits and vulva alike, and her oily skin glistened.

A

Mother 8 gave East Marion nine new children, nine wonderful children to retire Mother 8. We ask Ike Owens, Mother 8's first product birthed, for this community, to please join me on the float.

C

The troublemaking skateboarding boy next to Delia Owens ran forward and jumped onto the float next to Mayor Samuel. The mayor handed handed the boy a knife.

A

You remember what I told you, right, Ike?

C

Owens first nodded and then stabbed. Over and over the boy. Stabbed. Blood leaked down Mother eight's clean, convulsing body. It splattered onto Ike's shirt, onto his vest, fans, onto his skateboard. He smiled the whole time, even as he carved apart the breasts his mouth had never known. Go East Marion Cougars. Mayor Samuel waved the second float forward as the East Marion High School band continued to play. A gray tarp covered Mother nine. Go East Marion Cougars.

A

Who wants to meet Mother nine?

C

Mayor Samuel grinned and looked around, pointing to the dancing kids and the jumping adults. He knew how to work a crowd. Go East, Marian Cougars. He ripped the tarp away from the float to reveal a writhing beauty. She was hung low enough that she was able to sit directly on the float floor, her bare skin only safe from splinters, thanks to how well the men had stained and cleaned the wood. The arms and legs of mother 9 were spread wide and secured with more rope. Between her legs was a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers, blues and purples, a perfect Mother's Day medley. A pink primrose flower adorned each night nipple, and a collection of orange poppies sprouted from Nine's mouth. Mayor Samuel pulled a rope attached to Mother nine's arm, simulating a waving motion.

A

Say hello, everyone.

C

Oohs and ahs rippled through the crowd. The kids waved their hands passionately in return. The men nodded their heads approvingly, patting each other on the backs. The women showed no signs of jealousy, but instead commented on her eye color, her height, her figure, speculating, of course, what type of children she would bear for East Marion. Go East Marion Cougars. Bonnie's eyes flitted back and forth in horror at the crowd's excitement. She was unable to respond, though, not just because of the lovely spring flowers gagging her, but also because her tongue had been cut out. And with that, Mother nine's decade began.

B

It.

A

As our stories sink beneath the waves, we claw our way back onto dry land. Join us again next time when we plunge into the chilling depths where water hides its darkest secrets. The no Sleep Podcast is presented by Creative Reason Media. The musical scores are composed by Brandon Boone. Our production team is Phil Mikulski, Jeff Clement, Jesse Cornett, and Claudius Moore. Our editorial team is Jessica McAvoy, Ashley McInally, Ollie A. White, and Kristen Samido. I'm your host and executive producer, David Cummings. To discover how you can get even more Sleepless horror stories from us, just visit sleepless.thenosleep podcast.com to learn about the sleepless universe. Ad Free extended episodes each week and lots of of bonus content for the Dark Hours. All for one low monthly price. On behalf of everyone at the no Sleep Podcast, we thank you for taking the plunge into our dark waters. This audio program is copyright 2026 by Creative Reason Media. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media. No part of this audio program may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems. All rights reserved.

C

Foreign.

B

Hey, it's Ryan Seacrest for Albertsons and Safeway. Earn four times the points on your favorite brands now through July 28th on eligible items like Pantene Moisturizing Shampoo, Gillette Razors and Refills, Secret Clinical Strength Deodorant, Herbal Essences Hair Care, Old Spice Deodorant, Pampers, Swaddlers Diapers and Crest Clean Breath Toothpaste. Enjoy Savings on top of savings when you shop in store or online for easy pickup or delivery, restrictions apply. See the website for full terms.

E

In business, the best days are when priorities stay on track. For midsize and large companies, that means managing risk across the enterprise, from property

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and liability to cyber and beyond. The Hartford helps businesses put risk control

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first, building it into how they operate

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so they're better prepared before something happens and better protected when it does.

B

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policies provided by Hartford Fire Insurance Company

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and its property and casualty affiliates Hartford, Connecticut Big Transfer News today. Who's moving me to the couch with Domino's?

A

Best deal ever since they just added stuffed crust.

D

Any pizza? Any toppings?

C

Now with stuffed crust for $9.99?

A

It's a long term contract with no release clause.

E

Only 9.99.

C

Yeah, that sounds like the move.

B

I'm heading straight to Dom.

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Prices higher for some locations. Excludes Excel and specialty pizzas.

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Size availability varies by crust type. Max 7 topping 6 for pan and

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New York style crust.

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delivery area and charges may vary.