I Bought a Used iPad. The Notes Tell a Disturbing Story.

The iPad looked to be in pristine condition, almost as good as new except for a few scuff marks on the screen. Nothing seemed broken on it, and the pictures showed it working perfectly. I knew as soon as I saw it that it had to be mine.

Part of my brain told me that it was too good to be true. $40 for a new iPad in mint condition? Something’s going on here.

But the cheapskate part of my brain won over, and eventually, I found myself setting up a meeting place for the purchase. Both me and the owner of the device agreed that the best place to meet up would be at his house, since it was fairly close to my place and there was no good place to rendezvous between my place and his.

He did give me some bizarre instructions for when I arrived at his house. His email told me to grab the iPad off the porch and slip the money under his doormat. When I attempted to ask him why he couldn’t just come out and talk to me, he didn’t respond. I should probably have had more doubts about the whole arrangement after that, but I was so blinded by such a good deal that I didn’t bother asking any more questions.

Soon enough, it came time to make the purchase. I drove the fifteen minutes to his house, which was in a decent enough neighborhood. The lawns were well trimmed and the houses looked clean and well cared for. As soon as I pulled into his driveway, however, I could tell that my new business partner’s home was the exception.

There were weeds growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, and the front porch was covered in random junk like chairs, radios, and other assorted novelties. I wondered why the HOA wasn’t onto his ass by now. As I neared the door, I noticed a putrid smell coming from inside. I made the executive decision to hurry up and get out of here as fast as I could.

Resting upon the welcome mat was the glorious box that apparently held my new device. I pulled the $40 out of my pocket and slid the cash under the mat.

Before I left, I called out, “Thank you!” Then, I booked it out of there and back to my house. The house just gave me a bad feeling, like something bad had happened or was about to happen there.

As I was sitting down in my living room to open the cardboard box that stored the device, I noticed some words scrawled in large lettering on the bottom that I hadn’t seen when I picked it up.

CHECK THE NOTES APP, they read in giant, messy handwriting.

I was extremely confused by this, but I decided to put the red flags on hold in my mind as I pulled out the iPad. It looked just like the pictures had shown. It was in great working order and only had a few marks on the screen. I turned it on and swiped up to unlock it. I noticed right away that the device apparently had not been factory reset. The wallpaper was customized to a picture of an enormous Black Lab and there were a number of apps downloaded that I was certain were not default iOS apps.

I was about to go to the Settings to reset the iPad when I remembered the words on the box. I decided, just for the fun of it, to check the Notes app. It probably was just a joke the original owner was trying to pull on me, but I decided to play along.

I swiped over to the first screen with all of the default apps like Photos and Maps and tapped on Notes.

Immediately I saw that there were three notes. The time stamps on each of them showed that they had been written at around the same time, about an hour before I had arrived at the iPad owner’s house. I decided to read the notes in chronological order from the times that they were written. This is an exact transcription of what they said.

June 12, 2021, 12:17 P.M.

I need to tell this to someone. I know that no one will believe me, and I’m not sure what good it’ll be if you do. I’m too far gone by now anyway.

I should probably start at the beginning. I was living a decently normal life. I spent most of my time at home with my dog Lacy, which you probably saw as my wallpaper. I worked from home and was perfectly happy.

However, one day, I began to feel extremely odd. My ears would pop randomly and my mouth would dry up. As I was working, I found it harder and harder to concentrate on what I was doing. I’m a very focused person, so this is abnormal for me. My mind would wander to random things and I would lose my train of thought.

I didn’t think much of all this, because I figured I would feel better the next day. But as the hours passed, the symptoms would get worse and I began to feel a headache. I went to sleep, hoping that rest would make it better, but the next day, my headache had morphed into a pounding migraine. At times, the pain would subside, but after an hour or so, the pain would always come back stronger.

This went on for several days. I set up appointments with various doctors, who each put me on some generic painkillers. None of the meds ever worked, and I was beginning to get desperate. I started vomiting frequently, and after a week, my vomit began to be mixed with blood. My sickness was progressing quickly, but no doctor or specialist could pinpoint a cause or a solution. All they ever did was give me a prescription for some drug that never did me any good.

A few weeks into my illness, I began noticing some bizarre things in and around my house. I occasionally heard footsteps in the night, shuffling along the floor outside my bedroom. Once or twice, I heard a raspy voice echoing from a nearby room.

At first, I attributed these weird happenings to my sickness and ignored them. They still unnerved me, but I didn’t lend them much thought. All that I was concerned with was finding a cure.

I couldn’t think of any way that I could have contracted the disease. I hadn’t traveled in a long time and I usually keep to myself. I wasn’t able to work because of my symptoms, and my life was miserable. I just wanted a way out.

That was the end of the first note. I was somewhat confused, but I was also intrigued to see what happened next. I was still sure that it was a prank, albeit a well written one. I tapped on the next note, wondering what happened in the next issue of this strange series of notes.

June 12, 2021, 12:38 P.M.

Like I said, I didn’t think much about the voices or the footsteps. I tried my best to ignore them, and eventually they just blended in with all my other miseries. They just became another obstacle preventing me from falling asleep at night.

Unfortunately, the sounds only got worse. The footsteps got louder and louder, and the voices became more and more frequent. The voice was raspy, but I couldn’t tell if it belonged to a male or female, or if it belonged to someone old or someone young. It was an unidentifiable voice.

The voice would say very strange things. I couldn’t understand half of its words, but what I could make out disturbed me. It told me that I was worthless. It said that my life only existed as a sacrifice, and that I should just get up.

It said that it was always watching me, and that it was waiting for the right moment. What the “right moment” was, I may never know. I started to call my doctors and told them I was experiencing auditory hallucinations, but they still couldn’t help me. I even talked to a psychiatrist, who provided just as much assistance as everyone else I had consulted.

Late on a Friday night, I was laying in my bed trying not to vomit when I heard a noise come from outside my room. It sounded like glass shattering. I hadn’t heard the voices or footsteps that night so far, but I figured it was just a hallucination. For some reason, however, I felt the strong compulsion to check. I was sure that the noise had come from my den, so I crawled out of bed just to look.

It took me a while to get there. I was moving slowly and quietly, because a part of me thought that this could have been a burglary. I couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, so I continued on.

Eventually, I arrived in the den. What I saw shook me to my very core. There was my vase, which had been sitting on top of my end table mere hours ago, laying shattered on the wooden floor. I also knew for a fact that it couldn’t have fallen off on its own, because I had placed it as close to the wall as I could in order to keep it secure.

I called the police, but nothing came of their investigation. There were no signs of forced entry, and nothing had been stolen or moved besides the vase.

After that, I was paranoid. The noises kept coming back. Sometimes, I saw things move on their own accord, just slightly, as if they had been nudged by the wind. I knew that couldn’t be the case, however, since my windows were always closed and my air conditioner had been broken at the time.

The illness was still increasing in severity, and I thought I was going crazy. My life was miserable. It had been over a month since my sickness started, and things were only getting worse. I considered taking my own life, but I still held on to some small hope that things would get better.

Soon enough, I started seeing things. At least, that’s what I thought.

At first, I was walking down my hall to the bathroom when I saw someone’s back round the corner at the end of the call. I ran after them, but they were gone. The corner rounds off into my kitchen, and there was no sign of the person there.

Similar things started happening after that. I’d walk into my room to see someone jumping out of my window, or I would see someone slam the door to a closet as I walked past. When I’d investigate these appearances, whoever it was would vanish. I could never get a good look at the person. They seemed to be short, but I couldn’t really tell, and they were always wearing white.

I was fully certain that these were hallucinations. I didn’t want to believe that I was going insane, but that was the only logical conclusion.

I decided to try and photograph these incidents with my iPad. I would keep it in my hands at all times, and every time I saw something strange moving or someone walking around, I would snap a picture. None of these photos ever turned out. I still have them saved on the device you’re reading this on. They look completely normal, like pictures of my hall or bedroom.

I was living a nightmare. I was going completely insane.

That was the end of the second note. By now, I was very unnerved. If this whole story was true, then why was this guy telling me this? It seemed a bit too bizarre to be real, but I decided to finish reading before making any judgments. I flicked over to the third and final note and began reading the final chapter of this strange series.

June 12, 2021, 1:04 P.M.

I don’t have much time, but I need to finish my story.

I had given up all hope of photographing the sightings. Instead, I did my best to ignore them. In fact, I gave up hope in general. I knew there wasn’t much hope of my getting better. I had to quit my job because I was still sick and couldn’t work. I was neglecting my poor dog Lacy. By now I was resigned to my fate; I was sure I would die soon.

I’m only writing this out because of what I saw yesterday. I had woken up in the dead hours of the night. My mouth was parched, and I decided to go grab a glass of water from the kitchen. I crawled out of bed, using my iPad screen as a light to find my way.

As I stumbled groggily along, I began feeling very sick. I tried to hold back the urge to vomit, and pushed on.

As I was nearing the corner that turns off into the kitchen, I heard a sound coming from inside. It sounded like a raspy laugh or giggle. I shuddered, but I chalked it up to my hallucinations and entered the room.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold into my kitchen, my heart dropped down into my stomach.

I pulled up the iPad and took a picture of it. And this time, it finally turned out. I’m not totally crazy. You can see it for yourself.

I think I'm being haunted. My hope is that by telling someone else, by sharing my experiences, I will have freed myself. I’m sorry if the ghosts have passed onto you. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. If they stay here with me, then at least someone else will know what happened to me.

Once the sickness begins, there is no escape.

Unfortunately, I feel that I am too far gone anyway. But I still have hope.

That was the end of the notes. I was extremely confused, and I had no idea what to think. This had to be fake. Just this guy trolling me. But I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and check the Photos app. Just to see what this mystery picture was.

I left the Notes and tapped on Photos. The gallery was filled with random pictures of doors, open windows, and hallways. These were presumably the pictures the original owner of the iPad took when he saw those hallucinations. There was nothing abnormal about them.

But the last picture was the terrifying one. The sight has given me nightmares.

The picture shows a kitchen, with the camera pointing at the fridge. The photo had clearly been taken with the flash turned on, as it showed the body of a girl lit up with artificial light.

The girl was wearing a flowing white dress with lace on the collar. She was unnaturally pale, and her hair was jet black. In her hands, the girl was holding a small cloth doll that looked like an exact replica of her with the same clothes, hair and eyes.

The eyes were definitely the creepiest part of the whole photograph.

Her pupils weren’t black. They were red. And they were staring straight at the camera.

Needless to say, I factory reset the device that very day. I couldn’t shake the sight of that girl. Every time I close my eyes, I see her staring into my soul. It’s a horrible feeling.

I decided that the entire story was a prank. The original owner of the iPad had written that whole story and Photoshopped the picture just to scare me. I tried to go on about my life normally.

But unfortunately, I think the man was telling the truth. And I think his plan worked. Because I’ve recently started feeling very sick, and the usual meds won’t cure it. I’m having trouble focusing. I’ve needed to take the last few days off of work.

And what’s worse, factory resetting the iPad didn’t work. Because the picture of the little girl sitting on top of the fridge is still saved on the device.

I have no idea what to do. Should I sell the tablet on Craigslist like the man did before it's too late? Or do I keep it here until I die, hoping that the ghosts die with me?

I hope someone out there knows what to do. I’m running out of options.