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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/fake_bruh on 2025-01-14 23:11:44+00:00.
I’m not sure how smart giving out personal information is after something I thought could only happen in movies actually happened, but I’m scared about what this all could mean and I want people to hear and know about this if something happens to me. I assure you, I am no on medication, suffer from no mental illnesses and have no trauma of any kind and anything else you might think of. I am a completely average person living a completely average life. Well, I was, I guess, up until now.
My name is Marielle. I’m from a small town in Georgia where everyone knows each other and I work as a 911 operator. My family lives in a rural town out of state and I haven’t spoken to them about this yet out of fear that whatever’s going on might somehow affect them too if I get them involved. Yesterday I began my night shift the same way I do every evening. Most of the time I get low priority calls, and a few times pranks, and since I’ve been doing this for a few years now I’ve grown quite good at discerning what’s an actually concerning call. The shift was rather tame, up until I got what I thought was a prank call.
“911, what’s your emergency?” I spoke into the phone after returning my cup of coffee back on the desk and readjusting myself.
“Someone’s outside my house, they’ve been looking around my yard and windows for the past two minutes.” It was a woman on the other end, her voice familiar ever since the first few words, but I couldn’t quite place it yet. She spoke very fast, it was obvious how nervous she was about this. No surprise there, I would be too. “I thought it was some friend but I don’t know this person and they look… off.”
“Okay ma’am…” Nudging my chair closer to the desk as I begin typing on the computer, I asked the lady another question in the meantime. “Can you give me your address and tell me if you can see if this person is armed?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m the yellow house at […]. He–…” The woman continued but I admit, I didn’t listen. She had just given my house address. I stopped my fingers in the middle of writing and sighed, thinking this must be one of my friends. We’re a small bunch and very mischievous towards each other, sort of out of character for our age I must admit, but I’ve said numerous times how serious prank-calling 911 can be for people.
“Who is this? You know how badly this can end for you, right?” I reached for my coffee cup, rolling my eyes and held my hand ready to hang up the call, but she continued.
“What? I don’t get it, I’m serious! Please don’t hang up.” She retorted in a tone that caught me off-guard, and then again after a second she returned to the previous, somewhat panicked attitude. “I’m sorry… but this isn’t a joke, please, I’m afraid for what this person might do.”
“Okay ma’am.” I put the cup back on the desk and was ready to prolong this call to enough of an extent to either make this woman face the consequences for holding the line. What bad luck for her, I thought, to get the operator living at the exact house she decided would be her target. “What’s your name and which room are you in right now?”
“I’m Marielle. I’m looking out my bedroom window right now. They’re still there.”
My blood started to boil. How senseless this person must be, it was obviously a friend. I raised my voice this time, warning them again about how badly they will regret their actions if they prank call again, and just as I was about to hang up “Marielle” started to beg me frantically not to. For whatever reason something inside me was telling me to listen.
I decided to give her one more chance and then I would send the police over to arrest this prank caller and at the very least give her a slap on the wrist.
“Okay, Marielle. Describe the bedroom to me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. What color are the curtains? Is there any furniture? Lamps? Tell me what you can see.”
Though I’ve known said friends for quite a while now none of them have ever been in my house. I prefer it that way, not because I don’t trust them to enter my home but because I’ve never been fond of having guests, neither did my parents when I was little. It’s something they had that has transferred over to me. There’s no way this person would–
“Uh, purple curtains… double bed with a grey-ish cover with white lines… a wardrobe and a small bedside table with a nightlamp on it…” She went on for a few seconds while I listened, completely dumbfounded. She was describing exactly how my bedroom looked. Her next words snapped me out of the confusion. “Miss, why you asking me this? There’s someone outside my house!”
I couldn’t answer her immediately. This was just so surreal, nothing like anything I’d experienced so far in this job. This woman, apparently named Marielle, who sounds just like me, claiming she lives at my address, and is standing in the exact same bedroom as mine, was talking to me, Marielle. How did any of this make sense?
I tried to keep my cool and continue talking to her normally but I could hear the shakiness in my own voice when all I could mutter was an “okay ma’am…” before falling silent again and rummaged around my desk drawer to find my personal phone. My ex husband had installed security cameras facing the front, back and sides of our house at different angles after some people started talking about the same car driving around their house multiple times during the day and night, but nothing ever came out of it. It didn’t hurt to have the extra security measure, but I never thought I’d actually have to use it.
I opened the app while this Marielle kept repeating hello, but I was too preoccupied to answer. I admit my heart had dropped into my stomach at this point, and it only got worse after I opened the camera app. My bedroom window looked out of one of the sides of my house and right beyond the wooden fence was someone pacing left and right while looking up at the house. I finally snapped back.
“Okay Marielle… okay. I’m sending a patrol car your way immediately. Excuse the holdup.” I tried to regain my composure but could still hear my words trembling as I spoke them out loud. While the person wasn’t trespassing and technically not committing any crime, what puzzled me more was that I was currently, completely free of any alcohol or drug influence, was talking to myself. “Move away from the window to make sure he doesn’t see you. Do you–” I paused for a moment taking in how ridiculous the whole situation was again, and finished my question, listening intently for the answer that was about to come from the other Marielle, not sure what I was expecting to hear. “Do you have a weapon in your house you could use in case his intentions become malevolent?”
“I mean, the only thing I can think of right now are the knives in the kitchen… and there’s an old pistol but it’s in the basement and the door to it is outside. Am I going to have to defend myself?” She sounded stressed out as she asked, but I was more shocked to hear the same exact words I’d have said in reply to this question. I have a pistol, and it’s in the basement, the door to which is outside.
Still unable to comprehend all of this I told Marielle, or me I guess, to check again and see where the person is and reassured her that the patrol car is only a few minutes away from the house. Only now did I finally look around, thinking that I must be dreaming, and caught the gaze of a fellow coworker who had his eyebrow raised. He must have been listening in to my conversation and seen me acting off, but I tried to smile to the best of my ability and nod, quickly returning my focus to my screen before I could see his reaction.
“Marielle? Do you see them still?” I inquired but got no response for another few moments. She then stumbled on her words and I could hear the door creaking open just as my bedroom door did, and her footsteps rapidly moving from room to room, presumably looking out other windows.
“I… no, no. No, he’s not out there now. I don’t know where he is. Oh God, did I miss him? Is he coming towards my house?” She sounded like she was on the verge of a panic attack. I did my best trying to calm her down while searching for the person myself, switching between different cameras, and when I found him I saw him in the backyard with an arm raised in the middle of the air. Moments later a rock flew towards my kitchen window, and though the cameras have no audio to them, Marielle’s shriek was perfectly timed in sync with the impact. “Holy shit! Holy shit, he just broke on of my windows!” She began franticly and began raving inaudibly into the phone.
“Marielle! Marielle, get to your attic! Quickly! The police will be at your place soon! Use anything you find up there to block the way in!” I yelled back, raising my voice loud enough to overshadow hers and to probably scare my coworkers with the sudden decibel increase. Whatever was happening, it was real, there was someone outside my house who had just broken a window and I was in there, afraid for my life. The advice I gave her was exactly what I would have done - the attic hatch is in the middle of the hallway leading from the living room to my bedroom, giving her enough time to get up there and block it afterwards considering this person had to pass through the kitchen and then through the aforementioned parts of the house. By my calculations Marielle had enough time to get there and use all the pent-up trash and whatever else she could find to hold …
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1i1jchd/im_a_911_operator_earlier_this_night_i_got_a_call/