It was a few days before the 4th of July and I was waiting outside for my brother to pick me up so we could hang out at our mom's house. My two younger sons were playing and my 18 year old was upstairs in our apartment, having opted to stay home. I had just put out my cig when the front door on the apartment building next to me flew open and a young woman dashed out onto the porch.

"Oh, yes!! Thank you! Thank you, god! Could I PLEASE get a cigarette from you?"

I was a little taken aback by her behavior and just stammered," Umm, yeah, I guess."

She runs over, gets the cig, and as she runs back to her house she yells, "Hey! What's your name?" I tell her, she just says ok and continues into her apartment. My brother shows up, I load up the kids, and think nothing more of it.

I arrive back home almost 4 hours later and, as we walk up the stairs to our apartment, my older son meets us at the inside door.

"Mom, do you know anybody who looks like (he describes cigarette girl)?"

I say yes and explain about the neighbor.

"Well, that explains it. She's been over here every half hour since you left asking when you'll be home."

Now, I start to get pissed. I can see that he is a little unnerved by this. I ask when was she last here. 15 minutes ago.

"Don't worry." I say, "I'll take care of it when she comes back."

I see the relief in his face. "Good. I don't want to see her again."

Half an hour goes by and she doesn't show. I think, "Maybe she really isn't that weird. She saw my youngest son and should realize that by this time I'm getting him ready for bed."

Then the doorbell rings. My oldest son looks at me. I smile and tell him, "I got this."

Now, I should say, that if you don't know me I don't look very intimidating. Average height, overweight, but, my dad was an airborne DI (taught his daughter well) and several of my friends (who are in "specialized" fields in the military) who I spar regularly will tell you different. So, I know I can take care of myself and am not easily rattled. And now, we return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

I go downstairs and open the door. There's cigarette girl. "Oh, great! You're home! Can I PLEASE get another cigarette from you?" I explain to her, politely, that I can't support her cig habit. She tries to bargain, saying that if I give her one now, she'll buy me a pack when she has money. This is ridiculous but, I've been there and feel a little bad for her. Still, I apologize, tell her no, and ask her to stop coming over as she has freaked out my son and I'm a little upset about that. She looks at me with a confused look, apologizes, and walks away. I close the door, figuring that we're done. Wrong.

10 minutes later, my husband arrives home from work. I fill him in about cigarette girl. He laughs. "If she comes back, let me answer it. I'm stressed and need someone to take it out on. It'll be fun!" I laugh and say ok.

Sure enough, an hour later, the doorbell rings again. My husband runs out of the bedroom, huge grin on his face. I wait at the top of the stairs while he goes down to answer the door. When he opens the door cigarette girl is there, I mean RIGHT there, in the doorway. But, this time, she's not alone. Two guys stand on either side of her, completely covering the doorway. They all look up, shocked. My husband is 6'7" and over 300 lbs with hair past his waist and a long beard. He doesn't need training. He's a bear all by himself. He smiles, "Yes? Can I help you?"

Cigarette girl stammers and the two guys take a few steps back.

"um, um, I was just wondering if you had a phone I could use?"

"Nope."

"Oh, um, well... is (insert my name) around?"

"Yep."

"Um, well, do you think, maybe, I could get a cigarette from her?'

"Nope."

They stand there for a minute before she thanks him and the three of them walk away. He locks the door and comes upstairs. He looks at me with a mildly concerned face. "Why exactly did she need two extra people to use a phone?" I shrug and don't really think about it.

A week later I'm on my front porch when the other resident in cigarette girl's apartment building comes out and goes to her door. She bangs on it, hard. Cigarette girl opens the door and the two of them begin arguing. I walk over to the edge of my porch to get a better view. The other girl is accusing cigarette girl and "her two scummy friends" of stealing stuff out of her apartment. They argue for a bit before the cops show up. Cigarette girl even went after the other girl with a knife. But the other girl was fast and hit cigarette girl with her son's baseball bat.

I wonder for a moment if that's why the two guys were with her that night. She had never met my husband. Again, I shrug it off.

Fast forward to last night.

It was 3 am, I was up a bit later then I usually am, and decided to go out and have one last cig before I went to bed. As I walk out on my upstairs porch, I hear cigarette girl and her two friends getting out of their car. They walk up to her apartment building, talking loudly, complaining that they are out of cigs, yet again. The houses in our neighborhood don't have driveways and are only about 6 feet apart so you can hear everything. I can't see them but, I've become so accustomed to the sounds of the neighborhood that I know they are on her porch. I hear her door open and close. As I finish my cig I hear her door open again. Then I hear her upstairs neighbor's front door open and shut, steps on the stairs and the top porch door opens. My porch is completely black, so it's impossible to see me. She looks over, walks back into the building and back down the stairs. The front door opens and closes again.

I hear rustling and a single step on my downstairs porch. I see my top porch door move.

My front entry is set up with a door from the front porch leading to my stairs and 3 doors at the top of the stairs, one going into our apartment, one going to the upstairs front porch, and one going to a coat closet/attic entrance. When ever any of the doors open the other 3 visibly move. I think it has something to do with the change in air pressure but, I'm not sure.

The bottom door is locked. I hear a man's voice mumble something and cigarette girl replies, "I'm trying!" from my front door. I clear my throat, hear a step on my porch, rustling, steps on her porch, and her door closing.

Now, here is how /r/creepyencounters saved the day.

Normally, I don't lock my bottom door until I'm ready for bed but, for the past few days, I have been reading stories on here! They creeped me out and I have been making sure to lock my doors as soon as I come home.

I don't want to think bout what would have happened if the door wasn't locked.