← Southern Cannibal's Scary Stories
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Imaginat escucharto cancion favorita como sifora la primera vez te presentamos el totalmente nuevo y reymaginado Nissan cakes consonido Bose personal plus yvo sinas en la parte superior de los hacientos para creor un experiencia tresientos ecenta jamas asan USA punto conible boces una marca de the Bose Corporation. Hi everyone. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and I hope you're still enjoying the holidays with your family. All that being said, this is a three hour compilation of some of the darkest, most disturbing stories that I've covered on this channel, ranging from sexual assault to murder. This one is dark and it's not for everyone. If you can't handle such dark topics, please click off this video and listen to something else. But if you're already and you're able to listen to these dark, disturbing stories, sit back, relax. Let's begin. I'll begin by saying that I've always been unafraid to speak my mind. Even when I am afraid, I just speak up anyway. I'm a girl and When I was 15 I had a male friend called Mike. Mike was a bit of an oddball, but at the time I really liked to root for the underdog. I hadn't yet learned the lesson that sometimes the person who presents themselves as an underdog ain't the underdog and there's a justified reason that people avoid them. This situation is what made me finally learn that lesson. Mike went to my school and we were friends for two years. He was honestly at best friend level, so I decided to tell him that I had a crush on another girl. I told him that I was pretty sure I was a lesbian. Now I know I am, but I said I was pretty sure instead of certain just because I was trying to accept that myself. Well, Mike was quiet for a bit and then just said oh, okay. He asked who the girl was and I told him everything. He seemed fine with it and he listened to me. As time passed though, he started to say really degrading shit about girls and he expected me to agree with him or something. He'd point to random girls in the hall and say really creepy things. It wasn't like he said, oh, she's cute. He was saying pornographic shit and you just know when something feels fucked up. I told him not to talk about them like that and he said I should agree with him since I liked girls too. I told him he was A perv and that I wasn't. And then we kind of had a falling out. We would make up, but this just kept happening as the weeks passed. I remember ranting about him to my mom, and she asked why I was friends with him if he pissed me off so much. I realized that she had a point, but he was one of my best friends. I mean, I didn't want to lose him, but he was annoying me. I figured I should talk to him about it. So one day I asked him if he wanted to sit in the library during our lunch hour. He was the only person I'd come out to. And honestly, my other friends sometimes teased me about dating Mike as we had spent a lot of time together. My friends hated him because he was labeled as annoying all throughout the school. The other boys teased him for being goofy, and a lot of the girls just thought he was an idiot because he could be awkward. So we ended up in the library, and it was very quiet. The library lady was in there on her computer and eating. And there were maybe two other kids that were sitting there eating alone. Me and Mike sat in a corner at the back, away from everyone else. We had our lunch with us, and Mike had started eating, but I didn't. I said that we needed to talk, and he then said, yeah, about what? All with his mouth full of a ham sandwich. I began to explain that I thought he was coming off as sexist and creepy with all the comments he made about random girls, how he would literally tell me, like, 20 different girls in our school year had blowjob eyes, as well as a bunch of other pornographic shit. I don't want to get into all of it, but think of typical disrespectful shit that a frat dude would say. And that was Mike. Remember, this all came out of seemingly nowhere. Right after I told him about my sexual orientation. He continued eating, and he said that he couldn't be sexist and that I shouldn't go all feminist on him. This got my hackles up, but I tried to stay cool. I said that his comments were disrespectful, but he just wouldn't listen to me. He said I should agree and that I don't want to say exactly what he said because it makes me really cringe. He basically said that I love female genitals just as much as he does, that I should be okay with him saying what he would say. He just said it in a more crude way, as you can likely imagine. I told him that he wasn't appreciating what I was saying and he said all he was doing was listening to me. I just got so mad at that point and I just left him there and then grabbed my shit and was gone. He tried to chase after me, but I just ignored him and went into the girl's bathroom because it was close by. I didn't want to fight in the library. I had wondered if I was being dramatic, but after talking to one of my female friends, she agreed that he sounded creepy. He just made really creepy comments about girls bodies and it was uncomfortable. I was seriously reconsidering my friendship with him and my female friend said he was a loser and I should drop him. Some time passed and I didn't really talk to Mike, but he kept trying to talk to me. I literally blanked him like he was a ghost. Childish, sure, but I was 15 so it was to be expected. After like four days though, I ended up talking to him again. He cornered me in one of our classes and he seemed apologetic this time. He said to please talk to him and that he was really sorry if he offended me. I decided to accept this. It was progress after all. But I would proceed with caution moving forward. I told myself if he started to disrespect other girls again, that would be it. So two weeks passed and it was alright. One day we were walking home from school though, and we ended up on the topic of my own sexuality. Mike asked me if I knew as a young kid and I spoke to him about things. Well, the conversation started to get creepy. He asked if I'd ever watched lesbian porn and I was taken aback. I felt uncomfortable. I know we were friends, but still I told him no And I told him it was all fake and it made for pervy men anyway. He was quiet for a bit and then he asked if I was a boob or an ass girl. I just stared at him like why would you even ask me that? I then rolled my eyes and brushed him off. He then asked if I was definitely sure that I liked only girls and shouldn't I at least kiss one boy just to make sure. I was really offended by this and I raised my voice at him and told him no, that the thought of even holding hands with a boy felt wrong and that I knew that I didn't want anything to do with them. It's nothing personal, it's just how I am. Mike dropped it, but I felt annoyed and uncomfortable. From that moment on, I had started to distance myself. I decided to come out to my mom and she was accepting that was a relief and it really gave me some confidence. I then told my female best friend and she was also totally accepting. And she told me that she kind of suspected it because I never seemed to have a crush on any boys. This meant so much to me and I started to feel like with the support of my other friend and my mom, maybe I didn't need to latch on to Mike. I was starting to feel like he had changed. Or at least his true colors were finally revealed. More time went on and Mike knew that I was distancing myself. He became clingier. I know that I should have handled it better, but I was 15 and we all do stupid things at that age. One day, Mike and I were talking. He asked me why I was being distant and. And I was honest. He went quiet and he looked distressed. This was when we were walking home from school again. He waited for me at a certain point and I could walk home with him by going a certain route. He got home before me and my house wasn't much further. I decided that we had to talk. So I walked with him. After being quiet, he had told me that he cared about me and that he didn't want to lose me. I said, if that's true, then he has to stop being so disrespectful. He was quiet again before then telling me that he wanted me to listen to what he had to say. I said alright, and then waited. He took forever to get it out. But he had basically asked me if I was really sure about myself because he was developing feelings for me. I don't know what word describes how I felt at that moment. If all shit was a feeling, that was what I felt. We never stopped walking throughout all of this, by the way. And now it was my turn to be silent. I didn't know what to say. I felt bad. I mean, it wasn't his fault that he felt that way. It isn't something you can exactly control that much. I just ended up saying sorry and looked at him. And then he just shut his eyes and stopped walking. I felt really awkward and honestly, terrible. Like guilty almost. Mike, I said as he stood there. He was still quiet and he kinda sucked in his mouth. I don't know how to describe it. It's that weird mouth thing that people do when they're trying not to cry. Except his face wasn't contorted or anything. I repeated his name again and he looked up at the sky with his eyes still closed. Then he said, what will it take? And then he said my name at the end of the sentence. I asked what he meant and he then raised his voice and then said, I mean, what will it fucking take? He didn't shout, but it made me take a step back. I struggled to find the words, but I couldn't help myself. Beginning to feel a little scared. He said that ever since I came out to him, he'd been picturing me with other girls and it wasn't fair to him because he'd fallen in love with me. He opened his eyes and then stared at me and then he put his arms outstretched and then shook them around. I was just stood there like, what the fuck is even happening right now? He then started ranting like a maniac. He was shouting that I'd never even given a guy a chance and that I should give him a chance because we're young and that I can't possibly write off men when I've never even kissed anyone. This made me so infuriated and despite feeling nervous, I had started yelling at him that he was a prick and to fuck off with all his ignorant bullsh shit. He shouted over me and started walking towards me and I forced myself to stand firm. I was going to shove him if he got too close. He kept walking. He said that it wasn't fair and why couldn't I just want him back like he wanted me? He just kept going on about how it wasn't fair. I remember shouting back that life isn't fair and he told me to shut up and listen to him. I shouted back and he started stomping his feet. He told me that humans aren't that different from one another and I should just give him a chance. Honestly, I'm putting off typing all of what he said next because it just makes me so upset. But he had started to say that he had all the parts a girl has and I should be able to be with him because I cared about him as a friend. He said that we could make it work because when you kiss someone you shut your eyes and we could have sex and just picture he was a girl. He said that lesbians use strap on toys so I should just pretend his penis is a strap on and it would be the same thing as banging with a toy. He said the same shit about his hands and mouth, basically saying his hands aren't any different to a girl's and that he'd go down on me all the time since that's what lesbians do all the time. I was so disgusted and appalled that I wanted to punch him in the face. He Kept repeating to give him a chance, begging me even. He said that I could grow to love him. And that's when I shouted that we weren't in Beauty and the Beast and our friendship was over. I told him that I'd never like him or any guy and to fuck off. I turned to walk away, but I kept looking over my shoulder. I told him to leave me the fuck alone and to never speak to me again. He started following me though, and continued his tirade. He told me that he couldn't live without me and that he needed me so badly. I told him he was a psycho and I started to run. I could hear his footsteps behind me as he chased me. I was freaking out so bad. I knew that I had to run away from him. Mike had lost his damn mind. When I got into a more populated area, I began screaming, fire. I'd always been taught to scream that word to alert attention. Mike had started shouting at me, telling me to stop, but I just kept going. Someone came out of their car up ahead and I screamed at them to help me. I then sprinted to them as fast as humanly possible. And it was a woman and a younger boy. I recognized them as a boy from my school and his mom immediately sprang into action. I literally ran into her and started babbling, trying to tell her all about Mike. She had seen Mike chasing after me, but he had turned around once he realized he was caught. The woman's son just stood there looking concerned and confused. We didn't know each other super well, but we recognized each other. His mom offered to drive me to my house and asked if I wanted. The police called. I said no to the police, but yes to a car ride. She took me home and she actually stayed with me while I spoke to my parents. Her son just kept smiling at me comfortingly in the car and I really appreciated that. My parents were horrified to hear what went down and they immediately called Mike's house as I had his house phone number. No one picked up. Shocker. My dad wanted to go to Mike's house and knock the door down. And so did my mom and big brother. But they had managed to somehow restrain themselves. So the next day, my parents marched into school and we headed straight into the head office. I told the head what happened and my mom was demanding something to be done. She wanted Mike expelled for homophobic harassment, bullying, attempted physical assault, everything. He hadn't hit me, but my parents were convinced that that's why he was chasing me. Combined with his fucked up ranting. It was just a Feeling they had. Mike wasn't in school that day and the headteacher was keen to handle it all internally, but my parents were having none of it that made sure. The headteacher called Mike's parents on their mobile phones. His dad answered. It was a whole whirlwind of shouting. His dad came to the school and the head spoke to him. He tried defending his son, but my parents ripped him apart. I didn't attend classes that day. They took me straight home. And honestly, it's all kind of a blur. I just remember constant arguing. The head telling us that he'd speak to Mike, my parents insisting that he'd be charged and expelled, and then them calling the head a homophobe and a coward. It was a nightmare. Everyone in the school found out what happened, and I felt really embarrassed. It was also hard because now everyone knew some very private information about me. It was hard. Thankfully, no one was really horrible about it, at least not to my face. But I guess someone somewhere must have been bothered. That's just life. The next day, my parents and I went back to the headteacher's for a meeting in his office. It was really tense in the air, but I didn't think that was unexpected. He sat us down and what he said still gives me chills. He said that Mike's dad agreed to have a word with him, which we already knew. Well, Mike wasn't in the house when his dad got back, and he ended up going through some stuff. In Mike's room, he found three notebooks filled to the brim with obscene drawings depicting women with injuries on them. He drawn himself inflicting injuries to these women as well. He had also written a bunch of really disturbing things. He had a list of girls in our year ranking them based on specific body parts. He dedicated several pages to discussing how sexy each girl was and also listing his favorites. His favor would change, but over time, my name was at the top of the list. He ranked my body parts too, and it made me feel disgusting. He'd written about how he wanted to commit crimes against the girls in the school, including me. It really crushed me to discover all this. Mike's dad had contacted a police friend and together they went out searching for Mike. They had actually found him riding his bike in the woods. He didn't try to run away from them. Mike's dad's police friend said something had to be done about this, and Mike's dad agreed. He changed his tune totally. The head told us that Mike was in serious trouble. The police also wanted to talk to Me as well as all the other girls in his book. I was numb. Mike had been my friend, yet I hadn't known him at all. He was one of my best friends, yet I never truly knew him. If I hadn't come out to him, if he'd been best friends with a straight girl instead of me, would this have all come out? How did he hide it? Why did I trigger him to unleash his craziness? I'll never truly know. Mike ended up being sent away to some sort of psychiatric hospital and I never saw him again. Everyone was shook from this. The girls all whispered that they were right, he really was a weirdo. The boys said he was a lunatic and that they were all glad he was gone. I agreed with both sentiments. But I'd been his friend. Even now it sounds like it isn't true. I've never spoken to Mike since. I've never seen him again. I don't want to. And I really do hope I never meet him again. This whole situation taught me that you don't always know people the way that you think you do. People can hide a bunch of awful shit from others and you'll never know what is in someone else's brain. It's a really scary world out there sometimes. And I learned that sometimes people bring being labeled as weird upon themselves. Sometimes people are messed up and others pick up on it. I'm just glad Mike is out of my life and I hope he never gets a chance to hurt any innocent girls. This happened to me when I was 21. I had decided to leave my apartment to go for a late night walk. I was walking about a mile into town when I came across this random Asian woman. She looked to be in her early 40s and she was dressed entirely like a geisha. She approached me and she had started asking me something in Japanese. Since she's Japanese. By the way, I know Japanese kinda well. So I understood about half of what she was saying. Some of it translated to why are you walking alone? Keep in mind, she also seems to know English kinda well as it translated when she was talking in Japanese. So I told her that I was just getting some exercise. And then she said something afterwards that made my blood run cold. She said, what? Translated to there's danger lurking around you, beware. I didn't know what she meant by this at first, so I had turned around at the next block, but the woman was following me and she had with her who I assumed to be her sister. She introduced her to me and I said, konnichiwa, which is Japanese for hello. Her sister was dressed entirely like a geisha as well. I didn't think too much of it, but I continued my walking and they were behind me the entire time. They were both repeatedly chanting something really creepy in Japanese. They were chanting to what I recognized to be English for beware, danger is lurking. I felt uncomfortable, so I had started speed walking. Then they chanted something else to which I recognized to be you're gonna die. Like I said, I know Japanese pretty well, so I knew what they were saying. I freaked out, so I full on ran for my life. I ran all the way back to my apartment. I was out of breath when I got home and about 15 minutes later I had heard a knock at my door. It was 2am at this point I looked out the window and those same two geisha women were staring directly at me. They were both holding those handheld Japanese fans to their mouths. Then they opened my door and walked in. I guess they saw me run to my apartment and got my apartment number. I was so freaked out that I forgot to lock the door when I got home. Then they approached me and one of them pinned me to the wall. Then the other one took out a knife and gently caressed it against my face. Then the geisha with the knife said in Japanese, which also translated to nice, handsome face. I'll add some touches if you don't mind. I was about to scream, but then the geisha that pinned me to the wall put her hand over my mouth. Then she actually said something in English this time. She told me if I made another sound that her sister would slit my throat. She then told me to shake my head yes or no for anything they would tell or ask me. I was really fucking scared at this point. Like to the point where I started to cry. Then the geisha with the knife came up to me again. She then pulled my pants down, but thankfully I kept on my underwear. I was frozen. I didn't know what to do. She then took her knife and then cut into my outer thigh. It felt like she had gone in about an inch. And it hurt so fucking bad. I was just squeezing my eyes shut, breathing through my nose since I didn't want to make a single sound that would upset them. Then the geisha that pinned me to the wall told me in English that if I told the police, they would then return and then cut my throat. She asked if I understood. I shook my head yes. And they then both finally left my apartment. About 10 minutes later, I looked out my window again and they were both completely gone. Now I was able to call 911. They arrived five minutes later and I explained everything that happened to the police and paramedics and I then showed them the cut mark on my thigh. The paramedics dragged me to the gurney and then took me to the ambulance. When we got to the hospital, the doctor and nurse examined the cut and I needed stitches. I had actually asked the hospital staff if I could stay the night there just for my own safety. And since I was scared shitless to go back to my apartment in fear that they might come back, they said it was okay. So I'd spent the night in the hospital. The next day the police drove me home. I haven't seen those two women again after that night, but I now have severe PTSD from that experience. Dear God. It was one of the scariest things that have ever happened to me. This incident occurred towards the end of 2023. I was at my best friend's house for dinner and her boyfriend was at work. My friend lives in a block of flats and the neighbor directly across from her is a drug addict. Now, he is harmless, but he had brought some real drama with him for like two months leading up to this night. I'm about to explain. My friend would hear men outside her door screaming and trying to kick her neighbor's door in. My friend is very vocal and always the one to defend people. Despite being a young woman, she always opened her door and told these guys to go away and called the police, etc. She would always call me and tell me about these incidents or we'd text about them. It was always four men and they looked dirty and also seemed like addicts. I don't mean to shame addicts, but these dudes were all very dodgy individuals. They would sometimes tell my friend to mind her business, but she just stood her ground and would always tell them to leave the neighbor alone and that she was calling the police. Fast forward to the night that I was there for food. We had just sat down to eat and I honestly didn't hear anything. But my friend put her plate down and she told me that she heard noise outside in the landing. I said that I didn't hear anything myself, but my friend knew that she'd heard something and then she went to her front door. I had heard her open it and I heard her loudly saying, what do you guys think you're doing? I put my plate down and then hovered. I positioned myself so I wasn't visible but that I was close enough to the front door. To hear. I couldn't really make out what the guys were saying because they sounded incoherent, but they must have been saying something. I heard my friend then say, that's it, I'm phoning the fucking police right now. There were then shouts and I later realized that the men had run away. I had heard my friend talking to her neighbor and I could hear her ask if he was sure he was alright. She said that she'd phoned the police to talk to him and he just kept saying, nah, hen, it ain't necessary. Now hen is a term similar to calling a stranger sweetheart or something in my own country. I was just standing there like, huh, what's going on? Long story short, my friend came back and went to our living room and she said she had to call her boyfriend. I asked what was going on and she just explained that those dodgy ass dudes were back. The neighbor had opened his door and he was now surrounded by them and had been crouching like in the squat position with his hands covering his face, almost cowering away I guess. My friend said that she didn't see a weapon, but the neighbor claimed they had been threatening to stab him and apparently one had attempted to stab him with a skinny knife. It wasn't like a huge machete, but it was a sharp one apparently. That was why my friend had said she was calling the police so ardently. The neighbor had said they tried to stab him. The guys then bolted off instantly. My friend called her boyfriend and he was getting stressed out, telling her she should stay out of it because he doesn't want her getting hurt, etc. I understood that, but my friend was really frustrated by this because she just likes to help people and she always stands up to anyone. My friend had also told me that the guys had told her, you're a fucking grass of a neighbor. Which apparently is a slang term for snitch in my country. This was really nerve wracking to be standing there knowing these really dodgy guys were there and about to stab that guy. Me and my friend are also female, so I really couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable with four crazy guys outside. My friend ended up calling the police, but she had called a non emergency line. They spoke to her for a long time and they said they'd contact the neighbor. The neighbor ended up going on the run and people were really worried that he was dead or something. The police even woke up my friend at like 11 at night knocking her door to ask if she'd seen him. The guy's girlfriend was also knocking on his door a lot. My friend kept hearing someone knock and she realized after looking through the peephole that it was the same woman multiple times. My friend then decided to ask who she was and they got to talking. The neighbor ended up coming back after disappearing for like a month. My friend and I even saw the dodgy guys in town while the neighbor was gone. So far they've actually been leaving him alone. Apparently he owed them money or something. He's been laying really low ever since, but he is back now. I'm just glad my friend was never hurt by those crazy guys, but I really admire her bravery just to stand up to them. She really was brave for that. This took place when I was only 18 and I already had some bad experiences with guys in real life. I'm going to leave out real names for privacy reasons and for context. I'm a female. There was this guy who I'd like to Talk to in YouTube comments from TIME to time. He seemed normal during our common chats so I decided to add him on Discord. That turned out to be a big mistake and he turned out to be a creep with a foot fetish. When we first started talking on Discord, everything seemed normal until he asked me what my shoe size was. At the time I didn't fully understand what a fetish was, let alone a foot fetish. After I answered and gave him my shoe size, he then said that he had a foot fetish. He then went on to tell me that he watches Hentai and I had no clue what that was until he told me. After he told me what it was, I was disgusted. That's not the only weird stuff he did and said though. He was in a few of my Discord servers as well and he would lash out at me whenever they would get raided. I knew some of his ex Internet friends, but I didn't know at the time that they didn't like him or who didn't like him. The first time one of my servers got raided, the people who raided it went after him and then he took it out on me. He texted things like we have a problem. He also told me that I was ignorant for not coming online. I couldn't go on Discord at the time because I was at a graduation practice. He texted me several times and tried calling me. I ended up having to delete the server because of him spamming me and him wanting me to get online. I found out why his friends hated him. He was 20 at the time and he was dating a 16 year old girl at the time. I found out because he told me I didn't get a chance to read all that was said in my server, but after that I could tell that he was extremely weird. When my second server got raided, he had texted we have a problem bitch. He had texted some other things as well and he called me 21 times exactly. The people who raided my server this time didn't even really have anything against him. When this server got raided again, he ended up sending my server link in a discord server where the members would raid other servers. Later on, after other people raided my server, he said that he wouldn't be mean if we dated, but I then declined his offer to date me. He then asked me to date him later on again and I ignored the question for a while. He kept on messaging me and I gave in and told him I would as I was afraid he would flip out on me again. We ended up only dating for four days and the first thing he wanted after we started dating was a foot pic for me. I had tried telling him that I was already in bed, but he just kept on insisting that I send a pic and then get out of bed. I ended up sending the pic. After I did send the pic, he had caught onto the fact that I had jeans on and he asked me how I could be in bed if I had pants on. In the midst of all this, I also recall him sending me a pic of an anime girl body pillow and telling me that he was also a wee boo. I don't remember when he told me this, but it happened when we talked. I told one of my Internet friends about what happened and he was then confronted in a group call. One thing I forgot to mention is that the guy had also sent me a video that told me to consider suicide. And after I told people what he did, he told me that he hoped I would die and he also blamed me for making him lose friends. In a group chat where my friends got onto him, he acted like he didn't even care that he hurt me. Also, after this all went down, I had heard from someone that the same guy wanted to still do sexual acts to me, which still makes me feel really uneasy. Luckily, I don't talk to him anymore and I also don't have to deal with someone spamming anime feet pics in my server anymore. What a creep he was. I'm a teenage girl living in Canada and I've always really liked video games. One Saturday night I was bored and I was messing around online. I Found a random site that lets you play random games and the site had a chat room at the corner. I ended up talking to some random dude who said he was a teen too, and I'll call him Dave. I obviously wasn't going to tell Dave anything about myself because he was a stranger, but we ended up playing a ghost game together for about an hour and it was pretty fun. He asked if I had headphones on and he told me that he'd love to hear my voice, but I just said no because I didn't feel comfortable. I told him my age, which was 16, but that was it. I gave him a fake name too. After our ghost game ended, he had asked if I wanted to play another. It was midnight and I said sure because I wasn't feeling tired yet. He told me that he wanted to show me something that he found super exciting. And then he sent me a link to something. I know anyone listening to this will be shaking their head and screaming at the screen, but I naively clicked the link, honestly just expecting it to be a video game. The link took a really long time to load, like a full minute, which was odd. It wasn't a video game he showed me. It was a really disturbing video that still haunts me to this day. I will explain what was in the video as briefly as possible, but I need to give a warning now. It's extremely upsetting and it involves sexual abuse. The screen showed a woman who was very petite and thin, but she was definitely an adult, not a child. She looked to be of East Asian heritage, and she was lying on a concrete floor on her back and she was trying to get away from a group of men. The men were recording videos and taking photos because flashes just kept going off and she was crying and screaming as literally multiple men did things to her. It makes me shake to even type it out. I'm not gonna go into great detail here, but I think you all have an idea of what these men were doing to her and it was truly disgusting and awful. Anyways, my sound was odd and the sound of her screams makes me cry even now. And all the men were just laughing. I was so frozen and I felt like I was going to puke. But I couldn't close the screen due to how horrified and shocked. I didn't want to see it, but it was just too late. The screen then suddenly changed and someone began pouring something onto the woman's private parts. It was then that I regained control of my body and then exited the tab. It took a long time to Shut. And I was then shaking and sobbing. I went back to the chat room thing and I had asked Dave what the fuck he just sent me, and was this some sort of mistake? This sick motherfucker told me that it wasn't a mistake, that he just wanted to share one of his favorite videos with me. He said this video was nothing and I should have finished it because it only got better. And apparently I saw nothing based on how quickly I came back to the chat. He then went on to tell me that it was a disturbing form of porn and he thought I was cool and would like it. I didn't even respond. I just turned off my laptop and then ran to the bathroom and threw up. I sat in there crying my heart out because I couldn't process what I'd seen. I couldn't get the cries of that poor woman out of my head. They were ringing in my ears, and I couldn't forget the horror that I'd witnessed. I'd literally saw a crime on the Internet and I didn't know what to do. I was scared to tell anyone in case I'd get in trouble. But I felt like I was losing my mind. I couldn't sleep. I spent all night crying. The next morning, I had told my parents what happened, and they were disgusted. They weren't angry with me, they were angry with Dave. And they told me that I had done the right thing to tell them. We contacted the police and they came and spoke to me. I gave them my laptop because they had asked for it. And they told me they were glad that I'd told someone about what I'd seen. The female police officer helped me so much, and she provided me with some much needed comfort. She said that she had seen some really horrible things in her career. And she told me it would do me a world of good to talk about what I'd seen with someone. She told me not to bottle it up because it would only get worse if I did that and telling my parents was the right thing to do. For weeks, I felt like I was in a daze. I would have nightmares about what I'd seen. And even now, the look on that poor woman's face is tattooed in my brain. The police had my computer for several weeks, and they did get access to the video. They never traced Dave, and I don't know how, but. And I know they tried, but at least they're aware of him. And they did see the video. I don't know what the fate of that woman was. I'm not sure if she's even alive, or if those men killed her. Or perhaps she took her own life after what those monsters did to her. I don't know how someone can move past something like that. I don't know what happened to the men in the video either. I know it was longer than what I saw. I don't know if the men showed their faces because I can't even remember and I didn't even watch the whole thing. All I could focus on was the agony that that poor woman endured. I pray that the police find them someday. Sometimes I pray that those men will end up in a ditch somewhere, but death seems too good for them. I eventually got my laptop back, but I've never gone surfing on the web since. This happened months ago and the whole thing still haunts me. My school has a counselor that we can be referred to and we can chat about anything with them. I've started seeing the counselor and it's helping. I'll never be able to forget what I saw. It's burned into my memory. It's not easy for me to move on and it's not easy to push it to the back of my mind. I know that many people might think that I'm being dramatic, but the woman that I saw was a real person. Just because I saw it through a screen doesn't make it any less real. It really scares me to think that there's real guys out there doing these things and watching these videos. I really hope no one else makes the same stupid choices that I did. Never talk to strangers online and never click on any random links. Never trust anyone on the Internet and if you see something, definitely say something. I have been watching this channel for years. I would like to help others and let them know that they are not alone in this. My name is rose. I am 5 foot and I am 38 years old but I don't look it. I was a very sick newborn, even died twice. I have physical and mental disabilities. I was in special needs classes during most of my schooling. Names will be changed because I don't want these people to find me. I'm from Alabama, born and raised. I'm on disability because of my health problems. I can't work anymore so I've been on YouTube since it was created. This had started happening on one of my newer accounts. I'm not a big youtuber or anything. I've never really looked at this as a job, but just something fun to do. I have a lot of different interests. I'm also a Christian and I had a channel Called Sammy. I wanted to teach about Jesus as I had felt God calling me to do it. I was reading out of the King James version. I was explaining about what the verse was about. Well, this lady didn't like it. Let's call her Abby. She had misunderstood what I was saying and she had found my personal Facebook which isn't linked to anything, nor my Instagram. It was really weird and she had threatened to ruin me and come to my house in her van. I tried to make things right and apologize, but no use. I hate no one. I have family and friends who are gay and some aren't even Christians. I'm just reading God's words. But she didn't like it. I couldn't be on my Sammy account or my main YouTube channel. She would always find me, no matter what. It was getting bad. That was in the summer. But new stuff happened. This past November, I had someone bang on my front door after Thanksgiving. But before December, I had someone banging on the door and it started jiggling the doorknob. It was insane. Then it all stopped. This December. Yeah, very recently, someone had tried to add me on Instagram. It was my stalker. I had recognized all of the pictures. She had her account said to public. I had mine on private because there are a lot of sick creeps out there. All of my profiles are set to private and I won't add anyone unless I know them. Safety first. Stranger danger can be for adults too. Then she had her Facebook linked and this chick is seriously a huge catfish. I saw all of the profiles and so many more on Facebook and Instagram. Then thanks to some of my friends that I've met on YouTube. The Internet can be a really wonderful thing and place. But sometimes evil people can get their nasty hands on it. My friend who will call Mary wanted to know how this all started. By this point, all of this was playing a huge deal on my mental health. So I explained what happened and I went on my friend's account. It was another person and her husband that are on YouTube. Well, they lied to me and they told me that they would block the stalker. Well, I found out recently that they're all in on it and I've never met these people in person. So I had thanked my friend and made some new accounts and then blocked everyone. I'm no longer doing YouTube. This just stressed me out way too much. I used to also sing on there as well as doing cooking videos. But right now I'm just looking for peace. Please everyone, be careful who you trust online. They may not have good intentions like you think they have. Listen to your gut. If it feels wrong, then it probably is. I was right to think that this husband and wife were with the stalker. They made me think differently after they confronted me on it. But I now know the truth and like always, the truth will come out. Be safe out there and always watch your surroundings everyone, whether it's in real life or online. Thank you all for taking the time to listen to my story and if there's any more updates in the future, I promise I'll let you know. The story happened when I was in the 8th grade. I'm a 15 year old girl now, but I was 13 at the time of this story. For context, I was still in a middle school and instead of having different people in all of my classes, we'd travel as a homeroom. We'd have different teachers and classrooms for different subjects, but the students in my class always stayed the same. During the first half of the school year, I had this awesome teacher that taught my class math and science. However, after winter break she had to leave due to personal reasons, which is why we had to have a new teacher for the rest of the school year. I'll call this teacher Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was immediately one of my favorite teachers. He was in his late 20s and was pretty funny and friendly. Nobody in my class noticed until after the incident, but he had treated the guys and girls in our class pretty differently. For example, the group of guys in my class could just be having a conversation with each other before class even started, but if Mr. Smith heard any profanities or inappropriate language, he'd yell at the entire class for the entire 40 minute period, then make us sit at our desks with our heads down for any remaining time that we had left after that. But one time when I was going back and forth with my friend, I had accidentally let a shut up slip when talking to Mr. Smith. Well, all he did was calmly ask for an apology and then completely let it go once I apologized. None of this stood out to us until later on, but it was definitely weird. I sat right behind the teacher's desk, my friend right beside me, so we'd hear most conversations that Mr. Smith had with the other students. There was this one girl in my class who all called Charlie for the sake of privacy, who had really struggled a lot in the math and science. Mr. Smith was always over at her desk helping her with the work, which obviously isn't weird since that's what teachers are supposed to do. What was weird was that he had His Discord tag on a sticky note placed on the back of his computer that had faced the class. Apparently it was so that he could help students outside of school time, but teachers are not allowed to share any of their contact or social media info to students. Charlie ended up having to move to another province around the beginning of May, and my friend and I recall hearing a conversation between her and Mr. Smith about befriending each other on Snapchat so they could help her out with math and science after she moved. Now this was odd, but me and my friend just brushed it off and didn't really realize how weird this was until after we found everything out. Once this girl had moved to the other province, she randomly sent a text to our class group chat one day saying that Mr. Smith sexually assaulted her. Everyone in this group chat was really confused and we were all asking what the hell she meant and to elaborate. Well, she had sent screenshots of her chats with Mr. Smith on Discord as well as Snapchat to the group chat. I'll admit, as someone who's edited text before and edits a lot of things, these screenshots didn't look very real, so I didn't really believe any of it at first. However, one of the screenshots had a mirror pic of Mr. Smith, which had made me question if this was real or not. A bunch of the students in the group chat as well as me were discussing if these events were even real, and another kid in our class had sent screenshots of his text with Mr. Smith over Discord, talking about how accusations could ruin his life and career, but not denying any of it. I didn't know what to think. On one hand, it's very easy to edit text messages, and this Discord user could have been some random person posing as Mr. Smith since the grammar in English wasn't very good. But on the other hand, this girl and Mr. Smith were always talking and she would always stay back after class to get help with her work. And these are very serious allegations. I then explained to the other students in the group chat how serious this was and that we shouldn't be jumping to assumptions and accusations, but we also shouldn't outright deny that this could be very real and true. We talked over the group chat for the next few days about this until someone in our chat decided to screen record everything. We wrote all of the screenshots, our entire discussion, and then posted on YouTube. I didn't find out about this screen recording until I was called into the office after a few of my other classmates were and we were all told that the screen recording was posted online and how all of mine and my other students texts were also included on there. Everybody started leaving the group chat shortly after and a note sent home from the school revealed that an investigation was opened on Mr. Smith. During this investigation, which lasted about two weeks, Mr. Smith was still allowed to teach us and be in the classroom with us, but he rarely ever was since he was dealing with the legal matters. He addressed this situation to us one time in class and he almost broke down in tears in front of us going on about how this could ruin his relationship with his fiance, his career, as well as his relationship with his friends and family. I didn't know how to feel or what to believe. This was my favorite teacher that I'd talk to every day and laugh with. Being accused of grooming and sexually assaulting another girl in my class. The investigation was closed shortly after and we were all left really confused. Another note was sent home from school just stating that the investigation was now closed. That's it. He was allowed to teach us until the end of the school year. I recall one thing that made me quite uncomfortable. He was never inappropriate with me, but he did recommend me an anime one time that was borderline Hentai with the intro showing very young looking girls in panties which weirded me out. He also commented how he only watched the free anime which is about swimming, only to see shirtless guys, which I think is kind of an inappropriate joke to make with your 13 year old student. Another thing that made me uncomfortable was when we had some activity day at the end of the school year where we were all outside in the school field. I was wearing a crop top and tights since it was a hot day which was very different from the regular baggy clothes that I'd always wear. And I remember him slowly looking me up and down when me and my friend were talking to him, which made me feel gross. The school year ended and nothing happened at all during summer since the school was a 7 9. I went back the next year for grade 9 and I saw him passing by in the hallway once where we just said hi and that was it. I didn't see him again after that. Another note was sent home later that school year saying that one of our substitute teachers by the name Mr. Smith was arrested on sexual assault of a minor. This freaked out me and my friends. Clearly they had something more incriminating this time to be able to place him under arrest. Well, he isn't allowed to work at school or with children anymore and he has yet to still have a trial. All I know is that he was fired and arrested and he can't come into contact with anyone that's under the age of 18. I know this isn't very scary since it didn't specifically happen to me, but it's freaky to know that my once favorite teacher that I got so close to and would laugh with every day ended up being arrested for sexually assaulting one of my classmates. I was raised by my grandparents in New Zealand. They owned a business in the islands and as a result they had 20 employees. One of them who I'll call Rex. Rex's father was adopted by my grandmother's father. After Rex's father died, Rex became close to my family and he would do jobs here and there and my grandfather would pay him. My mother lived in the islands due to some legal issues she had. I never had a good relationship with her or my half sisters that I was raised with. This is relevant to what I will detail later. I was constantly bullied by my half sisters because I wasn't their real sister. And if I were to complain to the adults, no one really took me seriously. One of my sisters and I would accompany my grandparents to the islands and on one of these occasions, my sister led one of her boyfriend's friends into the house where he then forced me to get intimate with him. I was only 12 years old at the time. I was encouraged at that young age that it was cool to lose your virginity and to keep doing it with friends who would tell me good job making me feel as if it was a great thing. I didn't tell any adults because I thought that no one would listen to me and because of my small brain, it was supposed to be cool. These are all relevant to my story regarding Rex. My life eventually fell apart and I got into drinking and smoking. My grandparents made me stay in the islands with my mother who had abandoned me when I was 2 months old. On one occasion, one of my stepdad's friends broke into my room while drunk and he tried to do you know what to me that night. I remember him shushing me as my stepdad then knocked on the door to check if I was alright. I used this opportunity to leap to the door and dash out. My stepdad found him and then pushed him out of the house. As I was crying on the couch, my stepdad explained to my mother what had just happened. My heart dropped when I heard my mom ask him, are you sure that she didn't bring him in herself and then just pretend as if he came in on his own. To which my stepdad replied, um, I'm pretty sure she's crying on the couch. Everything I went through was ignored and not thought of. So I was always scared to tell anyone what was going on. Rex was unmarried, childless and illiterate. I remember one incident when I was young that he tried to force me to sit between his legs. I was only six years old at the time. I remember that he tried to kiss me and I ran away. At 13, I was way too young to smoke and so I used to hide at the back of our house and smoke. Rex found out about this and began to give me a smokes. He would tell me that I should smoke first and then he would finish it because he said that it felt like he was kissing my lips. He would constantly break into my room at night and steal my undergarments and then he would replace them with new ones. He also told me a few times that I shouldn't wash them after I shower. More than once we would sit together while smoking and I would move as far away from him as I could. He would purposely put a hole in his pants and let his you know what hang out. And he would tell me to look at it. He told me that he would masturbate and think of me. I was so scared to tell anyone and I just kept it to myself, seeking comfort in the wrong places and people. One day after I had a shower, I went to get changed in my room. My room is next to the kitchen and I knew that there was a hole on the top part of the wall. A very small one. I was never worried about it though, because one, it was way too high for someone to just look through it. One would have to stand on the counter and tiptoe to see through it. And then two, I never thought that anyone would go through all that trouble. So I slowly got changed because it was quite hot that day. And then I noticed that the hole in the wall was now blocked. I thought nothing of it because anyone could have just patched it up. I had heard my stepdad walking toward the kitchen at the same time. And then the hole appeared again. I thought that was strange, so I just stared at the hole. I heard my stepdad walk out, turn the car on, and then drive off. To my horror, something had blocked the hole in the wall. I legit realized that it was an eye looking right at me through that hole. I grabbed my towel and then rushed to the kitchen to then find Rex staggering down from the bench, acting like nothing had happened. I grabbed a knife and then threatened him with tears welling in my eyes. I told him that if he ever did that again, I would kill him. He then just smirked and I then walked off to put on my clothes. I had heard knocking on my door, and as I opened it, he just stood there glaring at me. He then forced himself inside and he told me he was done playing around, that I should just lie down and give him what he wanted. As you can imagine, I stood there horrified. I was so emotionally and psychologically damaged. I was only 13. While this was going on, something inside me was saying that maybe if I were to give him what he wanted, he would finally leave me the fuck alone. But then I looked him properly in the face and I just felt so disgusted. I yelled at him and I told him if he didn't get out that I would tell everyone what he was doing to me. He smirked and then walked out again. He knew that my mother would always be on his side at all times. My life kinda spiraled out a bit, and I had no understanding of what depression really was. I just felt like my life was ruined. So I kind of just let myself go. In regards to smoking, drinking, and unfortunately, sleeping in places and with people that I should not have been sleeping with or at, mostly because of their ages and marital status. I was once dating this dude who was 13 years older than me. I know, and I'm sorry. It was really stupid. And I was 16. I felt unloved, and I was looking for someone who could possibly love me back. While I was talking to him late at night behind my house, I saw a big block of wood fly across our heads. I then glanced in the direction where the wood came from, and there stood Rex, huffing and puffing, holding a machete, ready to fight the guy that I was talking to. I walked inside the house and my grandmother was devastated, saying that I was a whore and I'm an embarrassment to the family. Well, the next day I cried to them and I told them that I think I was like this because of what Rex did to me. My grandmother just responded by then saying, oh, what? He just slapped your butt? That's it. To which my aunt then says, well, you were caught with a dude before, and Rex didn't do anything to you until after that happened. Which was a completely different incident that happened when I was 15. So the one time I was going to open up to them, I was pushed aside. He would disgustingly leave graphic magazines in my room. He would Come into my room early hours of the morning and then stare at me sleeping. This went on for about a year or two. Rex also tried to do similar things to my younger sister, but my mother and stepfather made sure that he wouldn't, which kind of made me mad because I felt like they could have done the same thing for me but didn't. I was taken back to New Zealand when I was 15 after I ran away from home. The neglect that I felt from my mother and her husband was real and I went to go live with my cousins and their family where I actually felt that I was more accepted. Once I came back to New Zealand, I had picked myself up. I went back to high school, aced my grades and I started working at 17. I wanted to help my grandmother pay for my school fees, my lunch and etc. My best friend from the islands had introduced me to my then boyfriend and now husband of almost four years. I'm actually currently in university. I believe in America they call it college and I'm a second year student. My husband and I have our issues, mostly financial, but the love that I get from him I've never gotten in my whole life. We're just a young couple trying to succeed in life. I truly believe that if it weren't for the grace of God, I wouldn't have made it this far in life. I know this story is long, but I thought I would write it out for those who experience the same thing and also feel as if they have no one to talk to. One thing I've learned growing up was to always speak up and to never give up. Someone will eventually understand and listen to you. As for Rex, he actually still works for my grandmother on the Islands. He's 58 now and he was about 50 when he started to sexually harass me. He still has no wife or children or any family of his own, but my grandmother still shelters and cares for him. I forgive him and everyone else who's done me wrong, but the events definitely impacted my mental state of mind. I'm currently trying to work on my short temper as well as sometimes overthinking and jumping to conclusions. I'm extremely antisocial and I'm sometimes overly protective over my younger siblings. I was extremely suicidal until my husband came into my life. At the time I was cutting myself and until recently I've slowed down a lot. I've invested a lot of my time in my spiritual life and having someone to support me through my recovery journey has been a real gift from God. Rex Video calls my family members every now and then, but I try to avoid talking at all. I swear, every time I even hear his name, I can't help but have flashbacks of everything he's done to me. I know this isn't your typical scary story, but these experiences were truly scary for me. I've been sexually assaulted, bullied and unloved within the family, and now things are finally looking up for me. The relationship I now have with my family is getting better, and they're much more supportive now. Well, except for my mother, who just calls to ask for money. But that's a story for another day, I suppose. Please, everyone, if you happen to go through anything similar, speak up. I promise eventually someone will listen.
- [62:03]
Ryan Seacrest
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- [62:38]
Narrator
At the time of writing this, my 21st birthday was just a couple of days ago, but this happened last week when I was still 20. I'll be changing all of the names for privacy reasons. My name is Spencer and I'm a transgender man. I work at a rest area, cleaning toilets and keeping the place clean. I've known one of my co workers who we'll call Kevin. Kevin is heavily addicted to meth. It all started last week when I showed up for work and Kevin had just finished working a double shift. He accidentally took the office phone home with him, which we're not supposed to do. I called Kevin and asked him if he had it and he said that he did and he would bring it back when he came to work the night shift that night. For context on this next part, there's a buzzer in the lobby that indicates when the phone is ringing. No matter where the phone is, you always know when it's ringing if you're in the building. The buzzer started going off and it wouldn't stop for at least five minutes. About an hour later, the buzzer went off again. I had called my supervisor and told him about what happened and how the phone just wouldn't stop ringing. He said that he would call Kevin and have him bring the phone back well, around half an hour later, Kevin returned, put the phone back in the holder, Death glared at me and then said, fuck you, Spencer, you stupid ass. I asked him what the fuck was I supposed to do? The phone wouldn't stop ringing. He then bitched at me for telling on him and then the look on his face told me that he wanted to kick my ass. Kevin has a history of assaulting people in the past and there was no way I was going to be the next person he assaulted. I called the police and a trooper came and spoke to me about the incident and he told me that he'd go talk to Kevin that night. Fast forward the next morning. It was about 6am and my co worker, who I'll call Bridget, had sent me a chat on Snapchat saying that Kevin was extremely livid and that he was going to apparently beat my ass. He also said that I'm a man wannabe, which is actually a civil crime and gender discrimination in the workplace. I called the office where the cop was based out of and he later called me back and I told him about the threat and discrimination. The cops didn't really do that much and my supervisor just moved Kevin to a different building. I went to the office of the place that I'm contracted with and filed a formal complaint against Kevin. They said they'd bring him into the office and talk to him. I also called the sheriff's office today at the time of writing this and asked to press charges. Well, the only charges they can press is just a simple misdemeanor harassment charge. The discrimination is supposedly a civil matter and that I should talk to an attorney. This incident hasn't been solved to my satisfaction and I'm constantly looking over my shoulder and worried that Kevin may actually come after me. This may not seem that scary to most of you, but I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me. And that's why I'm as terrified as I am. Thank you all for taking the time to listen to this story and if you have any recommendations on what I can do, please let me know in the comment section. My sister, who we'll call Kelsey for privacy reasons, was seeing this dude for a few months. Well, him and Kelsie were doing some illegal activities with each other and one day he decided that Kelsie was stealing money from him. He calls her to meet him at a store and Kelsey goes. She leaves her car at the store and then gets into his. He starts driving her around and talking crazy to her, telling her things like he loves her. But she's doing things to him that he doesn't like. Then he pulls out a gun as they're driving down the road to taunt her with it. He tells her that she needs to go into the store and get him some cigarettes and liquor. Kelsey goes in, and while she's in there, she calls her mom. She starts telling her very unusual things, like I love you, mom, and that she hopes that we're doing okay. That's when my mom then understands that she's in danger because of the tone of her voice and how it was really shaky in mother's intuition. My cousin was over at the time, and we ran to the store to bring Kelsie's car back to our mom so that she could go get Kelsey. Kelsey had managed to stall until my mom got there, and then they got into the car and sped off. Well, while going down the road, the dude is now shooting his gun out the window while swerving through lanes to reach them. They're going 60 down a 25, running red lights as they're getting shot at. Kelsey is on the phone with the police, and as they get closer to our house, he eventually gives up because the police were just down the block waiting for Kelsey and her mom. Or at least that's what I thought before he turned back, though, to go to his home. He gets to our house and is driving through the alley behind our house, and my cousin and I were scared, feeling like we were gonna get hurt because he was around our house. Eventually he left, though, because Kelsie and our mother got an escort back to the house, and we were told to leave the area for the whole night. This actually made Kelsey have to move to a whole new state. Yeah, it was a pretty crazy time for us. My mother and I still live in the same home with no new issues from the dude. But, yeah, Kelsey had to leave. It was pretty crazy. At this time, I was about 13 years old. I grew up a feral Gen X kid in the 90s, and I was unsupervised a lot. We lived in an old farmhouse that was about a mile away from a strip mall in a 7:11. My friends, who were just as broke as me, and I used to meet up and go wander around the strip mall. Sometimes we'd shoplift, and sometimes we'd just wander around looking at things in Target. Kind of typical suburban kid stuff. The most direct route from the strip mall to my house was a pretty busy main road that went from the highway into farmland. Our old house was positioned right at the border between the town and Incboundary, and it was also the last row residential turn off. The closer you got to my house, the more remote it was. One summer day after some low hooliganism, I was on the road back to my house. There wasn't much sidewalk, so I was just walking along the shoulder. On my right was a bunch of fields, and then on the left was a garden nursery. I was used to a lot of creepy and unwanted male attention. I hid about 5 foot 7 when I was 12, so from a distance I probably looked a bit older. I was also skinny with long blonde hair and blue eyes. It's possible that I looked maybe 15, but I still looked like a kid. There was this one day when a man in a blue Camaro pulled up next to me. He was a greasy Latino man with long hair and he looked to be in his late 20s, early 30s. Hey baby, want a ride? Disgustingly enough, this wasn't the first time I had this happen. I ignored him at first and just kept walking. Hey baby, do you want to ride with me? Come on, get in. He leaned over and went to push open the passenger door. I took this opportunity and then ducked around to the back of his car. I then crossed the street behind him, knowing home wasn't far off for a quarter of a mile. This man followed me, tried to grab me, tried to push the door into my path. Anything he could think to do without getting out of his car. The next road I had to take wasn't nearly as busy, but this meant that his risk as a driver would have been far less if he jumped out of the car and then grabbed me, I was getting more panicked. I neared my house and I didn't see my mom's Jeep in the driveway, which meant I'd be alone. I weighed up either running into the house and hoping I could lock him out before he got to me. The risks of this creepy man knowing where I lived and whether he'd eventually lose interest in me if I just kept intermittently dodging, ignoring or telling him no. We kept the back door on lock, locked, and didn't really keep house keys, so who knew what windows or doors were actually locked. I decided to not go into my house. There were a few houses up the road in a small development. I figured I could maybe duck into one of the unfenced backyards or hop one of the smaller ones to get away. There was also a small filbert orchard, I guess, that I could disappear into. The man was getting more aggressive, pausing and trying to grab me screaming at me to get into the car. Any charitable intent that he had started with had totally vanished. This man was desperate to get me into his car and not just for a ride. Thankfully, some of our neighbors were having a garage sale. I took my chance and then yelled, oh hey, that's my house. And I then ran as fast as I could to the house with the sale. I didn't actually know these neighbors, so I was taking an additional chance, but I figured whatever happened to me there was way better than what the man in the car had planned for me. I ran up to who I figured was running the sale and I then told her that a man was following me. He was idling just beyond their driveway, still leering. I was then ushered into the house and given a soda. I don't know if the owners of the house told this man to get lost, if he thought it was my house, or if he thought there were too many witnesses. Maybe all of the above. They told me to stay as long as I wanted and gave me a record to take home. I stuck around for maybe around half an hour. After they could promise the man was gone, I walked back home, still looking over my shoulder. But everything ended up okay. I wish I could say this was the only time this happened to me, but it wasn't. Lots of men tried to pick me up as I walked. I didn't drive or have a bike, so walking and riding the bus were pretty much my primary modes of transportation. There were only a few others that were aggressive as Camaro man, and each time I managed to duck them. Funnily enough, I was rescued another night as an adult by ducking into an adult video store and watching the creep on the CCTV cameras point pointing at the parking lot. For the love of God. It's fine to offer someone a ride, but if they tell you no, don't push it. And especially don't push it to the point to where someone has to flee and then hide in garages and porn stores. When I was 18, I had moved into my first apartment. I'm a female from the UK by the way. My apartment block wasn't very high with only four levels and I had stayed at the top. The bottom floor was a storage room so people only lived on the three floors and there were only three apartments on each floor so it wasn't huge. Directly below me on the middle landing, a middle aged couple lived there. The man had a business job in the city and I knew that from having a quick chat with him Once his girlfriend stayed home A lot, but I didn't pay much attention to it. But it was something that I was aware of. Rumors began circulating then he was cheating on her and I was inclined to believe it. He would stand and whisper into his phone and acted really odd when talking on his phone in public. I noticed that he started going outside every few hours to talk on his phone for like 40 minutes at a time. But it wasn't my business and I didn't know for sure what he was up to, so I just stayed out of it. Well, the rumors turned out to be true and one day he moved out. She however, stayed in the apartment. I had a friend who was a real busybody and always knew the latest gossip. She claimed that they were planning on sorting things out but that the girlfriend demanded some space. I'm not sure how true that is though. I think it was around March of 2018 and I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. I commuted to college so I'd attend my classes, go to my part time job and just live my life. One day when I came home around 4:30pm I saw that the street had cop cars, an amulet and a dark blue and black van. I went in and ascended the stairs and before I even entered the building, a truly horrendous smell coated my lungs. I know that it's irritating when people say this, but I genuinely do not know how to describe the smell. I want to say that it was like a sweet mold, but even that doesn't sound right. It really is something you need to smell for yourself because it's indescribable. It just smelled like death. As I got into the middle stairwell area, I saw that the couple below me's front door was open and a lot of emergency professionals were surrounding the front door. As well as being inside her house, there was also police tape there and a police officer blocked my view with his body when he saw me. The smell was pungent and I knew it was coming from their apartment. When I got into my own apartment, I had called my mom because I was fearing the worst. She comforted me and she told me to just stay at my place and look out the window to keep an eye on things. I ended up finding out via Facebook gossip that the lady in the apartment right below me had ended her own life. I'm not really sure what happened, but she was apparently found in the bath after her boyfriend hadn't heard heard from her and it came to check on her. I don't know how long she had been in there deceased I also didn't notice any insects and no insects were in my apartment. I'm assuming that she hadn't been dead for very long. I know this story might not seem that scary, but for me it was horrible. It hurts my heart to think that that poor woman died alone in her bathtub. It also makes me so sad to think that she was so low that she ended her own life despite her boyfriend being trash for cheating. I still feel bad for him for being the one to discover her like that. And my heart goes out to everyone who loves her. It's just a really horrible situation. That smell really was truly indescribable. I've heard on crime shows that you can describe the smell of a dead body and you really can't. Nothing quite captures it. That smell lingered in the stairwell for days. I don't think it stayed for a month, but it took a long time to fully go away. Cleaners did come out and spent a long time scrubbing the whole stairwell and every single floor as well, but like I said, the smell was just searing. Her boyfriend ended up going back to live there with another guy. I don't know if they were friends or something more, but I really felt bad for him living in the place that his ex passed away at. I suppose it was his decision, but it still made me feel bad for him and the other guy. I hope that woman is at peace now and if anyone needs a sign to keep going on, please take this as your sign. There is nothing in this world that can't be fixed. Help is available and you shouldn't cut your own life short. Life is worth living and the bad times will not last forever. Stay strong and stay safe everyone. And my heart goes out to anyone who's lost a loved one in this tragic way as well. To all of those who have struggled with suicidal thoughts or attempts. I'm glad you're still here in the world. Be safe everyone. I'm a 22 year old female from Oregon. This happened to me about a year ago. I was honestly unsure if I'd ever share this story because it's not very long and not necessarily the scariest. It is true though and it genuinely freaked me out, so I suppose I'll share it. At the time, I had moved in with my best friend for a few months while I was in between places to live due to some personal stuff going on in my life. She had helped me get a job at a dairy mart conveniently located right behind her apartment complex. It was only a 30 second walk, literally I worked the closing shift around 4pm to 11pm and we were always scheduled in pairs so nobody had to work alone. I have a little side story that I also want to add as to why this rule was in place. Although it doesn't have any relevance to my story, I wanted to mention it anyway. So in the year 2000, there was a young woman that was murdered in that store's cooler by a robber. She was working all alone one night when this maniac decided to rob the store. She was stocking the cooler with her earbuds in and had no idea he was there until it was way too late. He shot and killed her in cold blood, robbing her of her life just so that he could rob a damn store. May that poor woman rest peacefully and that awfully sick man. Karma's a bitch. I wish I could say I knew more details of that story, but I never figured out the names of them or what happened to the guy afterwards. I can only hope that the woman received her justice and that that evil man is locked up for a very, very long time, if not for life. Now I'll get on with my own story. My coworker, whom I'll refer to as Buck, and I was scheduled to close together on a Saturday night. The whole day went by as normal up until the last hour of our shift. At around 10pm a guy came in and bought a pack of cigarettes. Buck and I exchanged a look as the sky reeked of alcohol and was very visibly drunk. I gave him his smokes and once he was outside, my co worker and I discussed calling the cops on him for drinking and driving. But he had never pulled out of the parking lot. A little confused by his loitering, we took note of his license plate and waited for him to leave. Now I know what you're all thinking. Why didn't we make the call immediately as soon as he left the store? I'm not really sure, honestly. But that was definitely a mistake on our part. We were both a little hesitant as we've never come across this situation before. Anyway, he sat outside for about 15 minutes, then came back inside and proceeded to tell us how he lost his keys and had also asked if we'd seen them inside the store anywhere. Buck and I took a look around, but we didn't find them. Once we told him that his keys were definitely not anywhere in the store, he started flipping the fuck out and became very aggressive. He began cursing us out, throwing shit around the store and actually accusing us of stealing his keys from him. So he couldn't drive away. We never mentioned anything to the guy about knowing he was drunk and that he shouldn't be driving, so this guy was basically telling on himself. At this point, Buck then hurriedly motions for me to go to the back of the store to call the police while he tries to deescalate the situation. This is when I felt very dumb for not making the call sooner. I ran to the back, locked myself in the office and I made the call. I then heard a loud shatter of glass then breaking and I had rushed to go see if Buck was When I got back to the front of the store, the guy was no longer inside and Buck screamed for me to help him to make sure all the doors and drive thru window were locked. The glass shattering noise I heard was from the guy smashing a cooler door into pieces. At this point, I had called my best friend to tell her the situation and she told me she'd be there at the store in a few to talk to us and to help me calm down. She said that she wanted to try talking to the guy, but I warned her not to do that, that the cops are on their way and to just pull up to the drive thru window to talk. Thankfully, the guy was so out of it that he didn't even notice her when she pulled up and we then talked to her for a bit, keeping an eye on the guy until the cops arrived. Just a few minutes later, the guy was arrested obviously then Buck and I were questioned and my best friend as well. I remember that his truck sat in our life for a couple of days after this incident before it finally got towed away. I'm not quite sure how long the guy was in jail for, but knowing how America's justice system works, it was probably only for a few days. I ended up quitting this job a month or two later, not solely because of this incident, but it just made me realize that I didn't want to work customer service anymore and I just didn't want to have to have another encounter like that ever again. I now work at a warehouse where I no longer have to deal with any customers. If any of you listening work in this field, please be careful out there. If your job requires you to work the night shift by yourself, I would really advise you please talk to your managers and owners so that you don't have to or just get a different job if they refuse. I feel like this rule should be required everywhere that you work, especially customer service, but unfortunately that's just not always the case. I was 23 when this happened. I was walking alone in the woods one late night and I was walking for about a mile when my right foot hit something on the ground. And it felt like a person laying there. So in a panic, I then said out loud, oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there, man. Are you okay? But there was no response. So I asked again, and still no response. So I had pulled out my phone and turned on my flashlight to get a better view of the person. When I shined my flashlight there, what I saw made me scream very loud. And I mean very loud. The person laying there was a guy and he had blood and stab wounds all over his stomach and his chest. This guy really looked like he had been stabbed a ton of times. Just the sheer sight of it literally made me sick to my stomach. I threw up so much and so hard that I felt like I was going to faint. After I was done vomiting, I called 911 and told them what I saw and a hurry. They showed up within about 10 minutes after they arrived, I told the police and paramedics everything. And I showed them the body. As you can all imagine, they took away the body in a body bag. I ended up going with the paramedics to the hospital to give more details. Since I was a witness. They said that he was apparently stabbed 12 times. Six times in the chest and six times in the stomach. Unfortunately, the guy was killed from the stabs, which caused massive blood loss. I never did know the guy, by the way, so as far as I know, he was just some random John Doe. I couldn't sleep for three days after that. And to this day, I still can't get that horrifying image of the guy out of my head. And it still gives me nightmares. I now have bad PTSD from that night. And now I'm terrified to go walking at night alone. How the hell could someone do that to this guy?
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Casino.Com sponsored by Chumba Casino. No purchase necessary vgw group void where prohibited by law. 18+ terms and conditions apply in the mid 2000s my mother, suffering from severe mental illness, had many extreme outbursts and episodes. In fact, that entire decade, which was my childhood, was defined by such traumatic events. This is only one of many. My mother suffers from the most severe case of schizoaffective disorder you've ever seen. It's basically a combination between bipolar and schizophrenia, making it far worse than either illness alone. Imagine the kind of unpredictable homeless person you see talking to themselves and twitching on the sidewalk in Oakland or skid row and you basically have an idea of what my mom's liked. Her illness was mainly induced by meth and paranoia. Before I get into this story, I will mention that I was also the author of the drug related story that Southern Cannibal narrated a few months back where I had to fight off a tweaker with a cookie jar when I was 18. You can find me in the comments by my channel name sopercatboy. In this story I'll refer to myself as C and the rest of the names have been changed On a Sunny Day in 2005, my grandparents, whom I lived with, had received a call from my mom's concerned boyfriend, James. I was only nine years old, but no stranger to the terror of witnessing psychotic episodes and the unpredictability that came with them. I listened to my grandparents discuss in low tones the situation at hand. James was at his wit's end. Nothing he did could get my mom to react or even move a muscle. She had been seated in the passenger seat of her old beat up car for nearly two days, refusing to eat, drink, or even look at him. As I listened, concern churned my stomach. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Even though some terrible episodes had taken place before, mom had never ceased to surprise us with her unpredictable nature. My grandparents and I immediately hopped in the van and made the 30 minute drive to the moldy, sagging trailer. Deep in the dark shade of the redwoods, we pulled off to the side of a busy main road. Next to the trailer, looking out the window to my right, I could see my mom and her parked car directly across the street. I only had a profile view from this angle, but it was clear that her eyes were bugging out. She sat completely without motion, tightly gripping the steering wheel. My grandparents stepped out to speak with James for a while as I sat in the car. Out of all my mom's boyfriends, James was my favorite. He was an alcoholic who had racked up DUIs and public intoxication charges, but he was still more mentally stable than any of the boyfriends I'd known before or since. He was a red haired Celtic pagan metalhead who had taught me how to use Limewire to download songs to a cheap MP3 player. I never once saw him get angry and he sparked off a lifelong love of Celtic paganism in me. So far he was handling the situation very well. James then told us how he tried to coax her out or get her to eat or drink, yet she remained stiff as a corpse, but we had a strong feeling she wasn't dead. Perhaps her consciousness was fully immersed within her mind in a dream world. After about 20 minutes of listening to repetitive conversation, the action started. My grandpa made his way across the street to approach my mom's cracked window. Grandma and I approached and watched from a short distance as he then knocked on the driver's side window. He desperately called to her, trying to get her attention. She didn't react. As I took a closer look at my mom. It had really saddened me to see how far she had fallen. She was once a beautiful brown eyed woman with tanned skin and long wavy bronze hair with natural highlights. Now greasy makeup smeared her face. She had oversized fake eyelashes, one hanging half off, and long dirty acrylic fingernails with glitter nail polish. She had shaved her head and eyebrows when I was seven while under the spell of a chronic delusion that she was Britney Spears or Paris Hilton. Now her hair had grown out a bit around a year before she had started dying it bleached blonde, drawing in lines for her eyebrows and constantly wearing blue contact lenses. She wore those blue lenses so much that that her eyes suffered from infections, giving her a continuous bloodshot look. I'm skinny and I have big tits. I have blond hair and blue eyes, she would repeat to herself in front of the mirror dozens of times a day. She would say this as her mantra, along with other base and carnal utterances so vile, demonic and obscene that they permanently altered how I value human life to this very day. At that moment as I looked upon her in that car, her decay and descent was full on display. She had gained significant weight and her skin looked unhealthy. Her eyes were red and dissociated. Her hair was dirty and matted. She wore a bright pink jacket with fake pink fur lining the collar and lapels, but the brightness was obscured by the brown sheen and assorted debris caked into the synthetic fibers. My mom was once an accomplished ballerina who had graduated from New York University. We had played board games together and I had spent at least one Christmas at her apartment in town. She was a loving mother for the most part. Until something changed in her. Sure, there were episodes occasionally when I was under seven years old, but something had happened. Around 2004, she snapped. The meth caught up with her genetic predispositions. The shady guys in New York had convinced her to use it, along with bulimia, you know, to help her stay thin and meet their unachievable standards. Now we, her family, were all paying the price. Either her medication wasn't working or. Or she wasn't taking it. Probably a little of both. Tears coursed down my grandma's eyes as I stuck to her side. Grandpa crossed the street to enter the trailer as we watched the car. He then emerged with crackers and a glass of water. He returned to her window, presenting what was in his hands and inviting her to open up. You need to eat and have some water, Lena. His words took on a stricter tone. Leena, open this door and drink this right now or you're gonna get it. He barked a few more orders before his desperation overtook him. His anger then turned into an emotional wail. Please eat and drink, Lena. His tears flowed. Lena, please snap out of it. My grandma, who was even more emotional, moved up beside him, comforting him. I come from an emotional family with some Italian mannerisms, and my grandma has always been even more emotional than my grandpa was. Her silent tears flowed twice as strong, and in her soft, quivering voice she begged my mother to come to her senses. All to no avail. Grandpa kneeled on the gravel shoulder where my mom was parked, and we all began to pray. Dear Lord, please free Lena from whatever demon has taken over her. In Jesus name we pray. Amen. Several hours had passed without me even realizing it. All that time spent talking to James, formulating, pleading and praying, seemed to fly by in a haze of dissociation. After our prayer, we had made our way back into our car and began heading home to plan. The whole experience had shaken me, but what I didn't know is that what I saw that day was like Disneyland compared to what I would later witness that night. The next few hours spent back at home were also a blur in my mind. I probably blocked everything out by playing Super Mario Bros. 3. Eventually, we got another call from James. She was still in the car, and it was getting dark. Grandpa made the tough decision to have us drive back over there at night and bring her back to our house one way or another. When we arrived at the trailer, twilight had fallen, shrouding the area with the midnight shade of the redwood canopy. Black darkness was quickly upon Us. Grandpa exited the car, leaving Grandma and I behind to wait. We watched him coax and beg and plead until his voice rose in volume and lost all patience. I'm giving you one more chance. He growled. I saw no sign of reaction from my mom. Grandpa threw his hands up, made his way back to the van and requested that Grandma get in the driver's seat and I sit in the front passenger seat. I wondered if he was planning on dragging her out and into the back of the van. He approached Mom's window once more, this time raising his voice significantly. You better snap out of it and get out of that car or I'll make you. Grandpa tried a few other vague threats to get her to move. You have three seconds to get out of that car, Leena, or I'm breaking in. He counted down as he made his way to the passenger side window, which was rolled up with the countdown ended. He let out a power cry and broke in the window with a few bashes of his Multi tool. He reached in and opened the door before crawling in. At this point, all I could see was their silhouettes as Grandpa reached over to my mom to pull into the passenger seat. My grandma put a gentle hand on my arm to comfort me as the events unfurled. Suddenly, my Grandma's grip tightened on my arm. Mom and reanimated, bursting into a torrent of furious flailing. Deep guttural moans and supernatural screams tore through the layers of glass from her car to ours, almost as loud as the powerful roar coming from Grandpa to dominate her into submission. But with all his mighty rage, mom still put up an unnatural resistance. Blows were flung back and forth. Mom hit Grandpa as hard as she could with an astounding speed and Grandpa hit back slow but heavy shadows of bald fists accompanied the screams and my Nana sobs. I was terrified, but I was paralyzed with enchantment. I couldn't look away when Grandpa got her in the passenger seat. He ran out and then entered the driver's seat. The melee continued as he started the car and began driving, still fending off blows and delivering his own. Grandma followed in the van close behind as we made the difficult 30 minute journey home through the dark woods and winding roads. Through the headlights, I watched the brawl go on like the shadow puppet show from hell. Their car weaved and swayed across the road, frequently swerving into oncoming lengths as Grandpa struggled to maintain control. As we trailed them in our van, Grandma spoke through her tears. They're going to be okay C. They're going to be okay. We just have to pray. Pray with me. C and as we helplessly watched the danger before us through shivering tears, we prayed. We prayed over and over again. Dear God, please deliver them home safely. In Jesus name we pray. Amen. After the longest drive of my life, God showed mercy and delivered us home safely. Grandpa dragged mom out of the car. She still resisted attempting to push, make herself into a dead weight, kick and scream all the way into the house. He pulled her toward the upstairs room, shoved her inside and roared at the top of his lungs. Now you stay in here for the rest of the night and if you touch anything or if I hear a single peep out of you, I'm gonna come right in here and wring your neck. As harsh as Papa was, we loved him for what he did. His old fashioned ways protected us. Mom didn't make a single peep for the rest of the night. She was a terror and a menace. And if I was him, I probably wouldn't have put myself at risk in that way. I would have just left her in that car to rot. For my mom, it was a long road to recovery which never truly came. Shortly after that event, she ended up in a mental hospital where she spent the better part of a year. She would spend the next few years in and out of that hospital due to various other episodes. Sometimes things would get better, then they would get worse, then better again, but she never got back to the way she was before 2004. Things improved for me a bit when I was in high school and she lived elsewhere, but she moved back in after I graduated. Her episodes got really bad again in 2017 and 2018 when grandpa was dying of cancer, but I'll save that story for the next time. It seems as if her medication either rarely works or she just doesn't take it. She also hasn't held a job in over a decade and never got healthy again. Her teeth have fallen out, she doesn't take care of herself and she still lives with Grandma and she's overall a massive burden that I wish the government would take off our shoulders. I have other stories I can share in the future. You can all find me in the comments at Sobra Catboy the story is about the time that I almost got kidnapped and trafficked. It really changed the way I view the world and the people around me. So without further ado, here it is. My family and I decided to go to Savannah, Georgia this year on vacation. I used to live in Savannah as a kid and booked a hotel close to my old neighborhood. I felt safe because I was familiar with the area, but oh boy how I was wrong. We arrived at the hotel without any problems and started to settle in. My husband decided that he wanted to go look around a little bit since there were thick woods behind the hotel separated by an 8 foot high privacy fence. He found a rotted hole in the fence and proceeded to go through it before the manager of the hotel noticed and stopped him. The manager then told my husband it was extremely dangerous to even get close to the fence, let alone go into the woods behind it. When my husband asked why, the manager then told my husband that there was a homeless camp located right over the fence and that there had been an individual found murdered, specifically decapitated the day before. The homeless camp was known to be very violent and where less than desirable people lived. I know what everyone else is thinking. Why didn't we just leave and book another hotel? Well, I really wish it was that easy, but trying to take a family of four on vacation on a budget is hard. We didn't have the money to book another hotel and we weren't able to get a refund for the days we booked. Trust me, we tried. We figured that we would still try to make the best of it since we only get to go on vacation once a year. We talked about it and we agreed that we would keep the deadbolt on the door locked at all times, travel in pairs if we had to leave the room for some reason, and we also carried our 9mm pistol on our side whenever we went from the truck to the room. All seemed to be going smoothly and all of us were having a really great time until the second night we were there. We had went to Tybee island and spent the entire day at the beach. Needless to say, the kids were really exhausted when we arrived back at the room, so they both fell into a deep sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. My husband said that he wanted to take a shower. I smoked cigarettes and I wanted to step out and smoke since our room was non smoking. I grabbed a keycard in my smokes and made my way out to the front of the building to the smoking area. It had started to pour in rain so I decided to just stay close to the hotel doors to stay dry. I lit up a cigarette and propped myself up on a stone pillar looking out into the now dark sky. I thought I was safe standing at the front of the building, but boy was I wrong. As I was standing there, I saw the manager of the hotel come up walking to go inside. So I said, hey, you're the manager, right? You spoke with my husband yesterday. Thank you for looking after him. He tends to wander around in new places. He said that it was no problem and that he tries to look out for the unsuspecting tourists that don't necessarily know about the area. I told him how I was from the area, but it had been many years since I lived there and that it had drastically changed for the worse over the years. It really wasn't like that when I was a kid. I told him he was super friendly and before I knew it he had me laughing till my cheeks were hurting. Now I can honestly say that I should have went back to my room after I finished the first cigarette. But he had my attention so I lit up yet another smoke. By this time I had been outside for around 10 minutes. So I'm standing there talking away to the manager when a group of about six Hispanic men walk up and stood around eight feet from the manager and I. Neither of us thought anything of it at first. I don't speak Spanish, so I didn't know what they were saying. I knew that they were staring at me and talking amongst themselves, but I get this a lot. So I continue smoking my cigarette and talking to the manager when the manager gets a strange look on his face. He didn't say anything and I didn't know him well enough to ask what was wrong. But just then the six guys walk into the rain and out of view. The manager opened his mouth to say something when a brand new white F150 Ford with blacked out windows skidded to stop right in front of us. I could hear what sounded like a car full of men speaking in Spanish through a crack in the window. I then felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the manager. He told me that I had to get back to my room right away and proceeded to basically shove me into the hotel lobby. Now you need to remember that this happened in the span of about 30 seconds. Once we were standing in the lobby, I heard the white truck peel out of the hotel parking lot like a bat out of hell. The manager then insisted on walking me back to my room. While we were walking, the manager then told me what the six guys were saying. What they failed to realize is, though I may not have been able to understand them, the manager however, could speak Spanish and he understood every word they said. This is what he told me. He said that the guys were talking about waiting for him to walk off and leave me alone so that they could take me. They said that I was perfect and would fetch a good price. When the manager refused to leave, they got in their truck and were going to just jump out and rush me right there in front of the hotel door. Their exact words were just grab her. I asked the manager why he didn't just say something or try to get my attention while we were standing there. He said that he didn't want to tip them off that he knew what they were planning. He was worried that they might have tried to take me right then and there. Just one guy and one five foot tall girl wouldn't be much against six fully grown men. Many have asked me why I didn't have my 9mm on me while outside alone at dark. Dark after what we had learned from the first day there. My answer is that I don't have a concealed carry license for the state of Georgia. The state I live in doesn't even require a concealed carry license to bag protection. I couldn't just walk around a hotel with a gun strapped to my hip, but I wish I had and I never go anywhere without it again. The rain actually played a significant role in my survival. Let me elaborate for you. The actual smoking area for the hotel was across the parking lot near an alleyway. The fact that it was raining that night stopped me from going into a dark alley to have a smoke. If I had, the manager would have never saw me and never came up to talk to me, leaving me completely at the mercy of six men and whatever they had planned for me. I made it back to my room safely thanks to the manager who watched out for me when he didn't have to. I owe my life to him. If it hadn't been for him, I would have ended up being just another missing woman that her family never knew what became of her that day changed my life and I think about it almost daily. I consider myself to have been extremely lucky to survive that night. Since then I'm constantly on guard and aware of my surroundings. So if I can give any advice to women on vacation or in an unfamiliar place, know that there is safety in numbers. Don't do what I did. Not everyone will be as lucky as I was. In the summer of 2004 my family was supposed to go to vacation in Kennebunkport, Maine. My father was stuck in meetings so he was going to come up from Manhattan a few days after us. My mom will never to drive up. Super annoying to me at the time, but we didn't have a choice and my brother, sister and I loaded into the car and started the drive. I was about 14 at the time. The drive was pretty uneventful. There were various delays, though, and we ended up getting in a lot later than originally planned. Because of this, the owners of the house we were renting had turned in for the night, and we weren't able to get ahold of them to get the keys. It sounds like pretty horrible planning, but apparently they were just pretty strict about the time frame to pick up the keys. My mom and Faze decided that she wanted lobster, so we then went to one of our favorite spots. She called my dad to see if he could make us reservations at a hotel in Kennebunkport from New York City. While we ate, we were enjoying the lobster while a guy came up and started chatting with my mom. I figured it was just a friendly local making conversation. During this, my dad calls my mom and my mom excuses herself to speak to him. Apparently, all hotels were booked for the night. Go figure. Height of vacation season in Kennebunkport. The plan was for us to drive to the nearest town and just find somewhere to stay until we could pick up the keys for our vacation home. Apparently, the local had been listening into my mom's conversation and then came back over once she got off the phone. I want to say that there was nothing outwardly off about him, at least not at first. He was preppy, clean cut, unassuming, and fit in with the clientele. He told my mom he had a big home with a big guest house and we were more than welcome to stay there and that his wife wouldn't mind. Immediately, my reaction was, nah, screw that. No way in the world I was staying in a random dude's house in creepy Maine in the dark. No offense to anyone from Maine, but the streets get creepy. My mom, doing her due diligence, determined that this guy was legit. She said he was in finance and that they chatted enough for my mom to determine that he wasn't totally full of it. I called my dad hysterical. He said that I was overreacting and that I just needed to get out of of the city more and just accept that people are just nice sometimes. So my brother, sister, and I got into our car and then followed him back to his house. Now, the guest house really was nice. It was fully furnished, but the beds were oddly placed. The guest house had two bedrooms, and instead of the beds being located in the middle and centered, they were right under the window in each room, and it just seemed out of place. Anyway, fast forward and we're all getting ready to go to bed. My mom hears a knock on the door and it's the guy. He said that he just wanted to make sure that we all got settled in cool. Nice thing to do. But then about 30 minutes later, he comes back just to check in again. At this point, my mom was just like, thanks, we're good. We'll stop by the house in the morning to say thank you. Fast forward another 30, 45 minutes and I can't sleep. I'm terrified. We hear this rustling, which is odd because the guest house was nowhere around the trees or close proximity to bushes that might cause such a noise. At this point, I see my mom wide awake and look up at the window, like motioning towards the window with her eyes. Let me add, none of the windows had curtains. The guy said it's because his wife was in the process of redecorating. When I looked up, there was a male figure just standing. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I don't know how long he was there for. When he walked away, my mom waited for a bit and then told us to get our stuff together. She wasn't messing around. We had my dad on the phone at this point. He was pretty much flipping out at my mom about something, but I didn't hear what my mom said. She was going to put stuff in the car and to follow her out. This was around 2am when we got into the car. We then pulled around to the front of the main house so my mom could return the key and say thanks and then get us the hell out of there. However, when we got to the front, all of the lights were off. Not just all lights, but it looked like no one had been home at all. Porch light, table lamp in the front windows, everything black. Also, the two cars were gone. The local's car and what we presumed to be his wife's car. After seeing this, my mom, at this point pretty much unsettled, said we were leaving and we proceeded to drive to the gate. The gate at the end of the driveway had been deadbolted and padlocked shut from the inside. It wasn't a super strong gate, so my dad said, rev it and just get the hell out of there. We then drove straight back to New York City, not speaking the entire time. We've never returned back to Maine and my parents refused to speak about it. I asked a family member one night about it when he was drunk and all he said was, they didn't tell you the actual owners of that house were on vacation. I'm assuming my mom or dad followed up with the local authorities and figured that out, but they never told us. I don't know who that man was or what he planned that evening. I was really curious as to whether there were any known serial killers or murderers who were in that area at the time, whether traveling through or what. Sorry for the long post. Just trying to be thorough. Hi everyone. I spoke with my mom and dad. They didn't have a ton of details and frankly didn't want to talk about it. But here's what they My mom first apologized and she still thinks she's a horrible mother for this. She's not. She's awesome. She didn't have a ton of details, but here are the high level items I asked her what made her suspect that something was wrong or what made her put her guard up. I knew something was up when she told us to all sleep in the same bed. Essentially, she said given it was dark and the longer the night went on, she realized that it wasn't a great situation and that she shouldn't have agreed to it. However, the point when things turned, so to say, was when the guy came by the second time. My mom said his demeanor had done a full 180. When he came by to check in the second time she felt that something was off. She described it as somewhat of an edge, both in his attitude and tone of voice. She said that he seemed anxious and annoyed, but was trying to come across as a concerned host, if that makes any sense. She also said that he looked back at the main house a few times and wasn't really paying attention to her when she was saying yes, everything's fine, thank you again, etc. All of those signs put together made her realize that something was off. The way that she described it was there was just something beneath his exterior that was coming out that I got a glimpse of and I didn't like it. With respect to the home, she said that it seemed like it was being renovated. This might explain why it was unoccupied. She said that when she drove in, at first she was just happy that we found a place to settle in for the night after a long drive, so she wasn't really paying attention to everything as she should have. However, when we were leaving, since she was more on edge and everything was heightened, she had started to notice a few things. First, she said that it looked like the main house was definitely going through renovations or something of the like that the exteriors were not that great or what she saw just didn't jive with how the Guy described it initially, neither she nor my father ever called the cops. She said in hindsight that she probably should have, but she was primarily concerned with getting the hell out of there. And after we did, she began to rationalize it away like, come on, it's dark, you're freaking yourself out. Calm down, you're just tired. It can't possibly be anything bad. You need to lay off the scary movies thinking like that. It wasn't until a period of time after that she really realized she probably should have alerted the authorities. Also, and this is a point that I don't remember, apparently the home was a lot farther than she was led to believe it was going to be. This makes me think that maybe it was not in the main part of the town. I'm not really great with geography and a 14 years old was definitely not great with it. And she didn't remember exactly where it was. She said she tried, but was focused on following him and wasn't really paying attention to the the streets exactly. With respect to what my cousin told me about the owners being on vacation, my dad said, your cousin is a drunk. Okay, that being besides the point, I pressed him a little bit. Apparently how my cousin walked away with that idea is because when my aunt and uncle and my mom and dad were talking about it one night, I guess someone floated the idea that maybe the owners were on vacation and this person was just house sitting for them. However, my mom and dad both believed that the house was either being renovated or the owners weren't there for whatever reason and it was just vacant. I'm not sure these answers really answer anything and quite frankly, they made me feel worse about the whole situation than I did before. I think my parents just felt really horrible and extremely guilty and they just tried to bury this and move on. I can't really say that I blame them. This event takes place in Washington State in early October of 2010. My girlfriend Beth had flown down from Sydney, Australia to visit me. I lived in Seattle, but since it was cheaper for her to book a flight from Sydney to Vancouver, British Columbia than Seattle, we decided to spend a bit of time in British Columbia and then work our way back to Seattle. After a couple of days in Vancouver, we took a ferry to Vancouver island in Victoria where we stayed at the Empress Hotel. The plan from there was to take a ferry from Victoria back to Anacortes and Washington State and then hop on a bus or train or something to Seattle. Making the most of our last day in Victoria. We didn't get to the ferry terminal prior to the final ferry of the day. I think it departed around 10pm or so upon arriving in Anacortes. If you're familiar with how a ferry works, you'll have about 10 minutes or so where a flood of cars disembark, and then foot traffic too, as people head to the parking lot to hop in the car they presumably have parked. I had miscalculated on a couple of fronts upon checking what I believed to be a bus terminal. There was clearly no bus on the way. There were no cabs either, no public transit options, and whatever kind souls who may have helped us out very rapidly dissipated into the night. The other miscalculation was that the Anacortes Ferry terminal was further outside of the city of Anacortes than I remembered. The road to the ferry winds along a mile or more through a wooded area with not even a pedestrian footpath, not uncommon for Washington. To make matters worse, it was raining. As is typical of that time of year, we were stranded, luggage in tow and all. Welcome to the U.S. beth. As the ferry traffic vanished and we began to wonder what the hell we were going to do, we were approached by a man, a smile on his face, not in the least bit concerned himself about also appearing to be stranded. I recall him as a bit bigger than me, both in height and weight, probably in his 40s. He was wearing glasses, a raincoat, and a wide brimmed hat, which he doffed in greeting. At least one of us was dressed appropriately for the weather. He shook my hand and we got to talking about the predicament we were all in, to which he then explained he was waiting for his mom and sister to come pick him up. They were driving down from Bellingham to get him. He said he could offer us a ride once they came, to which I declined, saying we were going the other way to Seattle, not Bellingham. We continued making small talk and he offered again, are you sure that you don't want a ride? They should be here soon. But I just stuck to declining it because it didn't really seem convenient for any of us. At this point I was resigned to just finding a hotel room in Anacortes for the night. Eventually, Beth, who was starting to walk up the road away from the fury terminal, motions to me, mike, let's go. But there's a pleading urgency to her voice in her face. I say okay, and bid the stranger farewell, and we start walking up the road into the dark and rain, luggage in tow. To my surprise, I find that Beth is now alarmed by the meeting we Just had pointing out to me that the man had not been on the ferry. He was already standing around at the terminal when everyone got off the boat. She also pointed out that he had never removed his right hand from his coat pocket. He'd doffed his hat, he'd shook my hand, and he never took that other hand out of his pocket. I honestly didn't notice this. She of course, was having visions of me shot in the woods and Lord only knows what for her. So we trekked up the road and eventually found an inn. But apparently there was some sort of convention in Anacortes that weekend and every room in town was booked solid. So we then called a cab to take us to a nearby town where we could get a room in a hotel. But in our time walking up the road and waiting for the cab, we never did see a car with what could have been this guy's mom and sister drive to the ferry. We didn't see any cars at all in the years since. Beth is now my wife. And we do joke that this was our close encounter with a serial killer. Half joking, of course, but also half wondering when news might come to light of something horrible along the northern coast of Puget sound. I'm a 26 year old female, but when I was 8 years old or so and my brothers were 10 and 6, something happened that would change everything for my family. Both of my parents were police officers. Most people would think that there's nothing to be afraid of when your parents serve to protect. But my brothers and I were not prepared for what the next few years had in store for us. My parents relationship began to get rocky when my stepdad reconnected with a woman that he knew. At first it was just friendship, or so my dad thought. But this woman wanted so much more. To this day, I still don't know if it was an affair, but my parents are still together to this day. This woman was obsessed with my dad. She began calling the house to talk to my dad, and when my mom tried to put a stop to it, she started leaving ungodly, threatening voicemails on the answering machine. She was saying things like, I'm going to slaughter you and your children and then your husband will be all mine. My dad blocked her number from the house phone, but then she had started mailing sickening letters. It got to a point where my mom tried to get a restraining order. After a year or two, the letters stopped. Until one night, my brothers and I were playing games on our super Nintendo in their room, demolishing each other In Street Fighter. When we then heard scratches at the bedroom window, spooked, my little brother ran and told my mom. With the gun cocked and loaded. She proceeded to check around the house where she finds a knife, where this woman tried to cut the screens off the windows, I guess trying to break in. After that, my mom installed a security system on the house, a really nice one too. Every entry of the house had to have a code to get in. The alarm tripped a few times, but after that, nothing. A few months pass and we all come home from the mall in Atlanta to find an end envelope taped to the front door. Inside were pictures of the inside of our house, the Polaroid kind that you had to shake to develop, including a detailed message on how she would expose us. Well, after that my parents sold the house and we moved away. It really makes me sad because I really loved that house. I'm a 29 year old year old male from Manchester, England. This event in this story occurred 14 years ago when I was 15 years old, so I'll try to remember this in as much detail as I can. I was in the Manchester Victoria train station waiting to catch a train to Liverpool, where I'm originally from. I moved to Manchester at age 2, a lucky escape from a lifetime of Scousehood. My train wasn't for another 25, 30 minutes or so, so I decided to go and stand outside the station for a cigarette. I wasn't legal to smoke back then, but not far off and I looked around 18 to other people. So I never really thought anything of smoking in busy public places like that and always have been a streetwise, rebellious and a little rough type of lad. So I wasn't the kind of underage smoker who'd be cowering out of sight in an alley somewhere scared of getting hot. I had been stood smoking my cigarette for around five minutes, lost in thought and planning my escapades during my month long stay at my uncle's house in Liverpool. And I had been about halfway done with my cigarette when a slightly scruffy and lightly smaller man of around 40 years old approached me and asked for a light. After handing my lighter back, he settles next to me on the wall outside the station and he then tells me that he's pissed off because he can't roll joints and his girlfriend wouldn't rule for him because they argued. I'm a bit taken aback by such forwardness, but not too much as I was wearing a bandana with weed leaves all over it and I took that as the reason for this man's openness with his drug business, considering this was 2001. But I being 15 years old and full of bravado and not enough common sense, I had started boasting about how well I could roll a joint, leading to the man asking me to come over to the canal to roll his tin bag up and do a few joints for him in exchange for £5. Now, I'm not and never was a stupid person and this already seemed a little off to me as I knew the Manchester Canal to be notorious for gay activity and street robbery, but as stated before, I was 15, lacking in fear and seeing that this guy was smaller than me, I decided he'd come off worse if he tried to have sex with me or harm me. So we went into the canal, him having handed me the fiver as soon as I agreed. He passed me his weed and papers and we sat on a bench. As I got to work, him making small talk and me doing my best to answer whilst concentrating on the Spliff Building, I remember I wasn't really fully registering his words and I was just replying back with generic yes and such until he then asked me if I was still a virgin. This made me pay a bit more attention as coupled with the location and its reputation this put me on edge and I tensed up a little, although I answered his question with a quick nah, I've got a girl. At this point I'm only halfway through rolling the first joint and the man begins to act paranoid as hell. If I could try to explain where we were for a second. We were in an area off to the side of the canal with the station back up a ramp behind us, a bridge leading from one street to another via crossing the canal about 100 yards down and to the left and then a tunnel underneath the railway line about 150 yards down the path to the right. The man starts saying he's worried about police coming as somebody just walked over the bridge and saw me skinning up according to him, and he suggests we walk down the right hand path and under the tunnel where we'd be out of sight from the bridge. Again overconfident in telling the man that I want one of the joints if I miss my train, I agree and we gather up the stuff together and then move off toward the bridge. Once I'd done the first joint, which he then tells me to light and go first on which I do. As we walked he said something else to me and it brought home the real reality of my situation and it made me seethe with anger, feeling a mixture of disbelief and insult that he'd even think of trying this on me. So, have you ever sucked a dick before? Uh, what? I replied. It's good, you know. Receiving feels even better. Ever had a man suck you off? At this point, I'm stunned and speechless, struggling to hold back a rising tide of anger and indignation. I have always had an issue with taking people's disrespect and lying to me in order to put me in a position with ulterior motives is high disrespect in my opinion. I've stopped walking at this point, as has he, and I'm seriously debating whether or not to try and take this man's jaw off his face. When I decided against it, Thinking back to the person on the bridge that the man claimed to have seen me earlier, and thinking that there might be police headed over this way shortly, I throw the joint and the water and the weed and things at the man's feet with an angry exclamation of, you damn, creep. Who the hell do you think you are saying some nasty ass shit like that to me? Get the hell away from me. I don't think he expected such a strong, confident reaction from such a young lad as myself, because now he seemed stunned in silence and didn't even react to his own weed being thrown about or me walking off back the path toward the station telling him to screw off and I'd break his neck if he ever came anywhere near me again. He just stared at me, looking vacantly until I lost sight of him. I felt like I'd really won in this situation. At the time, I'd gotten $5 stoned and bagged down a man more than twice my age, so I felt pretty good about how it turned out. Then about three years ago, a man went missing after a Stone Roses concert in Heaton Park, Manchester, a couple of miles from the canal. His body was pulled out of the canal a short time after, in the wake of massive national media attention, he had somehow got separated from his friends, inexplicably ended up halfway across the city and in the canal. His case highlighted many dozens of similar deaths, always of young men who have went missing in Manchester over the last 20 years or so, only to be pulled out of the canal dead and in some cases, with signs of foul play present. There's quite a lot of controversy around these deaths as the people of Manchester feel they may have a serial killer on the loose putting all these young fit men in the canal, and up until recently the police refused to look into these deaths properly, assuming them all absurdly to be drunk in accidents by the young men attempting to piss in the canal while inebriated and falling in and drowning. I don't really know what the truth is, but it is a fascinating subject and it can be found online with a simple search for Manchester Canal Killer or something similar. When I was 19, I came home from college to stay with my mom for the summer. She had recently divorced my stepfather and had moved from my house to a ground level apartment. One day I was sitting on the toilet and I saw a light coming through the vent in the floor. Looking closer, I saw two brown eyes staring up at me. I screamed, threw a towel on the vent and then ran to tell my mom and boyfriend what had happened. They initially thought I was kidding until they realized that I was genuinely freaked out by this. This particular complex had these weird locked crawl space type access points. The police found that the vents had been pried open, but they had never found who did it. I'm assuming a maintenance worker. Needless to say, my mom moved out fairly quickly after that experience. I always to this day check the vents, floor or ceiling. This happened over 20 years ago, but it still really creeps me out. Update I've had a few days to reflect upon this story. You know, as creepy as that event was, I had another situation arise a few years ago. In 2007, I learned that a prominent psychologist that I worked for in Seattle in the early 90s committed suicide after it was discovered that he was filming his clients and employees in the bathroom of his office. He was arrested, lost his license, and then offed himself. It turns out that he had hid his camera in one of those Airwick automatic air freshener units. The guy was a real ass. I quit the job because he was a lecherous, condescending ass. This was around 1993 and I wonder if there were tiny cameras back then and if he was filming all the 20 something females who worked for him. It's really so disturbing how many awful people there are in the world. Back in the late 2000s I had just finished up my useless degree and was really struggling to find work. I was living in a midwestern college town where everyone and their dog had some higher level of education, so it wasn't uncommon to find people with PhDs working for $10 an hour as a cashier. But the town was really fun and affordable, so people liked to stay there post graduation. I found a decent job at a coffee shop over the summer, but once the fall semester started, my hours were cut and I was then replaced with cheaper, younger baristas. A coworker suggested that I try nannying. I wasn't particularly interested in working with kids, but she assured me that it was good money. So I decided to join a website for nannies and babysitters and very quickly was contacted by a family. I met the parents for a quick interview and was hired fairly quickly. The pay was excellent and the hours were great 8am to 4pm So I had the evenings all to myself and free weekends. Both parents were professors at the local university and they had two children and were expecting their third very soon. Henry was eight and Jane was three. Both children were incredibly intelligent, Jane particularly so, and had the vocabulary of a much older child. I was primarily responsible for her since Henry spent most of the day in school. Jane was a very serious little girl. She could carry on very in depth conversations and I used to joke with her mom that she was like a 60 year old trapped in a toddler's body. Now Henry. Henry was a beautiful kid, I'll give him that. He had thick, dark, curly hair, long eyelashes, piercing blue eyes and dimples. He has the ability to be sweet, loving and funny, but I quickly learned this was a skill set he only used when it benefited him. Overall, Henry was a true monster. I have an older brother and two younger brothers, so I'm familiar with sibling relationships and I know that fighting is normal. However, Henry tormented Jane. I've never seen a child get so much joy out of causing pain, fear and discomfort to another human being. He loved nothing more than to terrify her with stories or monsters or ghosts. He had convinced Jane that there was a demon living in their basement and she refused to go down there with me whenever I had to do laundry. Over a couple of weeks, I had slowly got her to sit on the bottom step and play while I folded the clothes so I could keep an eye on her. She was so proud of her bravery. But when Henry came home and saw that she had conquered her fears, he made it his duty to terrify her even more and all progress was lost. He was so terribly mean to his little sister. I was really worried about her physical safety. When he was home, he would constantly taunt her, pinch her, threaten her and destroy her belongings. I despised the hour I had with him every evening after picking him up from school. The entire time would be filled with crying and screaming and his refusal to obey. I would try to tell him off. Occasionally I'd say that he couldn't act. However he wished that he was a child, that I was the adult. You aren't the king of this castle, Henry. This is something my own parents used to say to me. I am the king. I'm King Henry. Off with your head. He had responded and he was right. I didn't have any less control over him than his parents. They, let's call them Elizabeth and Michael were absolutely clueless. Dad was work obsessed and incredibly hands off. Mom was a sweetheart, but also a doormat and allowed both kids to walk all over her. They had no discipline whatsoever. So a lot of Henry's behaviors made sense. Why would he need to behave if no one ever made him? I was shocked to watch how Henry treated his own mother and how she allowed him to mock her, call her names and act aggressively towards her. It wasn't unusual for him to tell her that she looked ugly and needed to go change or put her hair down and she'd go and do it. He threatened to punch her stomach if she didn't do what he wanted. He'd punch her in the back of her arms whenever she displeased him. She made excuse after excuse for his behavior, calling him exceptionally bright and bored and having a really difficult time adjusting to her pregnancy. When the baby was born, things got even worse. Thankfully, he didn't attempt to hurt baby Peggy. But his aggression and violence toward his mother and Jane got so much worse. One afternoon, he found his mom sewing needles and tried to trick Jane into sitting on one. When it didn't work, he then stuck one right into her tiny arm. She screamed and I freaked out and removed it and called both parents immediately. Elizabeth arrived home concerned for Jane and for the first time seemed at least frustrated by Henry's behavior. She attempted to scold him and he became so enraged he started punching her in her newly postpartum stomach. She only responded by crying and hugging him and asking him why he was so angry and wanted to hurt his own sister. He then responded with a cold. I'm angry because you should have miscarried them both. They both should have died inside of you. My jaw hit the floor. Elizabeth stopped crying and she just stared at him and then at me. I assumed that they were going to potentially get this kid some help, but when I approached the subject the next day, I was just brushed off and told that they had a talk with Henry and that it was just an outburst due to an unrelated related issue at his school. Another excuse. Henry continued to torment the entire family and he started to target me as well. For the past few months he mostly ignored me. He occasionally called me uglier through the laundry I had just folded all over the room, but he had yet to get physical with me. This changed one day where unfortunately he had the day off from school so I had to spend the entire day with him home while also caring for Jane and Peggy. It was challenging, but by 10am he was bored of torturing Jane and went to go play in his room. The rest of the morning went decently with him occupied in his room until lunch where he spilled his plate all over the table because I didn't cut his crust the right way. I cleaned it up and I admitted my defeat weeks ago. I couldn't enforce any rules or boundaries if the parents didn't back me up. I put the girls down for a nap and Henry had asked me to read him a story. For the first time. He was calm and genuinely sweet with me. I read him the BFG and he cuddled a bit closer. I thought for a bit maybe this kid just really needs more one on one time I was about 30 minutes into the book when I felt a small hand reach under my shirt and touch my stomach. I looked at him and he stared at me. I gently picked up his hand and told him that it wasn't appropriate to touch other people without asking. He seemed angry but he let me continue reading. I noticed that he had stopped paying attention to the story and was looking at me all over. Before I could ask him what was wrong, his hand was under my shirt and making its way from my breasts. When I then yanked it away and stood up. I firmly told him that was incredibly inappropriate and that he's never to touch anyone underneath their clothes ever again. Henry then looked at me and said I can touch whoever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want. You can't stop me and no one can. I was creeped out and felt incredibly violated. I know he was a child but just imagine how that feels as an adult woman. I know that children aren't the best with personal space boundaries, but Henry was almost nine years old and I knew that he knew what he did wasn't appropriate or okay. The intent behind it seemed sinister. I ended our story session and tried to get through the rest of the day. I was so glad he'd be back in school for the rest of the week. I did decide to let his mother know because it felt weird to not she thought it was funny. She kind of chuckled and said that he's a very sensory oriented kid and was just trying to be affectionate at that point I honestly decided that I was never going to talk sense into these crazy parents and that I needed to look for another job. I knew I was going to put in my two weeks pretty soon. I was very sad because I was really close to Jane and Peggy and I felt like I was abandoning them. But I had discussed Henry's behavior with my roommate and she was concerned about potential legal ramifications for me if Henry did something to one of the girls on my watch. I came back to work on Monday and Jane had a black eye. Henry had accidentally punched her in the eye during an argument. I was so sad for her. I asked her what had happened later on and she told me that she was playing in her room when Henry came in, took her daughter doll and when she tried to grab it back, he then punched her square in the eye and then laughed. Henry was such an evil child at home and I wondered why his teacher never mentioned any behavioral issues in the classroom. One evening while picking up Henry from school, I had mentioned to his teacher that Henry was very difficult at home and I had asked his teacher if she had any issues with him in school. She said no, that he was very well behaved, had no issues and had a lot of friends. I was very surprised. I assumed Henry was disturbed and that his poor behavior transferred into class. But the teacher denied this. I quite frankly didn't believe her. So one afternoon the girls and I left early and arrived at his school so I could see how he interacted. She was right. He sat at his desk quietly, raised his hand and seemed genuinely friendly to his peers. For some reason, this stark difference in Henry's personality from home to school terrified me even more. Initially, I thought he was just a disturbed kid. But at that moment I realized how truly in control he was. Henry wasn't just an angry child with severe behavioral issues. He was just a mean child who knew when and where he could get away with his favorite pastime, causing misery. Thankfully, I had managed to find an entry level position in a field related to my degree. In the spring, I gave my two weeks and Elizabeth was upset, but she understood. Henry, however, was livid. He made sure to tell me daily how much he hated me and how glad he was that I was leaving and how he hoped I died. I was feeling less patient with his antics, so sometimes I replied a little more sarcastically than I should have to a nine year old child. On my last day, a Friday, my treat to Elizabeth and Michael was to let them have a date night. I picked up Henry from school at 2:55 and we headed home. Henry refused to talk to me. He wouldn't look at me, he wouldn't acknowledge me. I thought that may not be the worst way to spend the next six hours. We arrived home and shortly after Elizabeth and Michael came in and started to get ready for their day. The baby was about five months old at this point and they hadn't been out since her birth. The fall before Henry refused to speak to anyone. Elizabeth got worried and thought about just canceling the date, not wanting to see Henry upset. But I then assured her things would be fine and they left around 6pm the older two went to bed around 8pm and the baby an hour before. So I only had to make it about two more hours with Henry. We ordered a pizza, but he refused to eat. He just sat there and sulked in his chair. I let them watch about 30 minutes of the Magic School Bus on my laptop, a treat since they didn't own a tv. They did this while I bathed the baby, gave her a bottle, and then put her down in her crib. I was surprised that I didn't hear a peep coming from downstairs. No crying or screaming. I felt a bit victorious that Henry was so stubborn in his silent treatment that he didn't realize how easy he was really making this evening for me. When I got into the living room, I noticed that Henry had a sly grin on his face, the first one I'd seen all day. I let the episode finish and I then took the computer and I noticed it was incredibly sticky. I quickly realized it was honey and that Henry had gone into the kitchen and put a solid glob in his hands and then rubbed it all over the bottom and back of the comp computer. I was just relieved that he didn't get the keyboards. I took the keyboard into the kitchen, wiped it off and then heard Jane scream. I ran into the living room and Henry sat there with Jane right next to him with her hand squeezed tightly with his right hand and one of the kitchen knives in the other hand. I froze. I demanded that he put the knife down immediately and let his sister go. I told him this wasn't funny and he's crossed a line. He just smiled. I went and grabbed Jane and she just cried and cried and then Henry chuckled. I really scared you, you know. I could have killed her while you were upstairs and you would have never known. The blood drained right from my face. The anger I felt towards him turned into fear and then realization that he was right. I felt so stupid. I rarely ever left them alone together because it usually ended in Jane being pinched, pushed or slapped. But I guess I let my guard down given his docile behavior all day. I just started to cry and screamed at him to never ever do that again and go straight to his room. He sat and stared and went to the kitchen and then put the knife back and then went upstairs. I was obviously super shaken up and was still trying to calm down as I bathed Jane and got her easy for bed. I told her I was sorry and asked if he had hurt her and she said that he had not. I was about as angry with myself as I was at him. I could see Henry in his room playing with his Hot Wheel set and I told him he needed to have the lights out by 8:30 and that he could tuck himself in. He stared at me and shut the door to his room and I prayed that would be the last time I saw him for the night. I got Jane into bed and was reading her a story when I heard his door then creak. I got up and it looked as if he had cracked the door, but the lights were off. I continued reading until I suddenly heard Peggy start to gently cry, but she sounded close. I sprung up and outside the door frame I could see Henry holding the baby over the banister. I couldn't even scream. I never moved so fast in my life. I got to Peggy and grabbed her and then just ran back into Jane's room. I shut the door and shouted at Henry, asking him why he would do this, which was a stupid question. I knew why. To torment me. To make me realize just how easily he could access his younger sisters and then potentially hurt them. He could have dropped Peggy and he could have hurt Jane with that knife, but he didn't. And I don't think that was ever actually his intention. He just wanted to let me know that I wasn't doing my job nearly as well as I thought. And that in the end he was the one that was always in control. It took a while to calm down myself and the girls and get them to sleep. It was close to nine by the time I left their bedrooms. As I saw that Henry was still up in his room reading on his bed, I just kind of looked at him. I was so relieved that this was my last day dealing with this kid and his bullcrap. But I really felt sad and scared for his sisters. I told him it was time for bed and that I was going to tell his parents about what had happened. He didn't respond. I turned out the lights and then I heard him call my name. You can tell them, but it's a waste of your time. You're just lucky. You're really lucky. I can do what I want. I can hurt who I want. I can touch who I want. You're all really lucky. I just shut his door and left. Elizabeth and Michael came home a little later than expected and they paid me. I didn't even mention what had happened that night because it just felt pointless. But the next day I ended up sending a text. I got a long response from Elizabeth full of excuses about Henry and she even insisted that I lied. I was over it. I was over them. I ended up contacting CPS but not really sure if anything ever came of it. I don't for a second believe that Henry was ever being abused. I've told this story to others and people always ask me that. But no. I think that Henry was born a sociopath and his parents were enablers who never made him accountable for his actions and the two together created a monster. I didn't hear from them for over a decade. I moved across the country, got married and now I have kids of my own. My son is almost six years old and he has two little sisters that are three. They fight but he loves them and he's so protective and he knows what a healthy relationship between siblings actually looks like. Anyways, a few weeks ago I got a friend request on Facebook from Elizabeth. She looks the same, a few more lines, but still very elegant and pretty. Her profile picture consists of herself and her now four children. I glanced across the photo until my eye caught a young man with thick curly hair and bright blue eyes. Henry. Henry ended up as stunning looking as expected, he's about to be a sophomore at a well known elite American university. He plays for their soccer team and is majoring in business. He has a girlfriend and seems popular in his fraternity. This is all that I can gather through his public Facebook posts. Maybe he learned accountability and grew out of his mean spirited and manipulative way. I can only hope that's true for his sibling's sake as well as the well being of those around him. For now, my family is thousands of miles away from Henry. I honestly don't care if we ever meet again. I handled him before and I can handle him again. Whether it be now or 20 years in the future when my own children are out on their own trying to find a place in this world. If you ever see them Henry, you better not touch them. So just a detail before everything. This takes place during my mid-20s and at the time, I had no idea that I had cyclothymia, so I didn't know how to regulate my mind and my life was quite an emotional mess. It was summer of 2020 and I was back in town after a long while. At the time, I was living in my grandmother's apartment for work related reasons, which was in the worst part of town. My friend was living 10 minutes from my grandmother's place, so I used to see him often. We used to play video games, have long talks about life and future, smoke weed and so forth. Usual best friend stuff. That night though, as I thought about going home around two in the morning, my friend told me that he had the end of a whiskey bottle and that we could drink a glass to enjoy my return to town. We rolled up two cigarettes, poured two glasses, and then went walking in the night around the lot, in a park and just continued our discussion. As we were talking outside under a street lamp, we saw a car with a bunch of guys. They had just passed the street, but we didn't think much about it. It was just a car passing by was what we were thinking. After the glass and cigarette, we decided to go back to the apartment. On the way, we saw two of the three guys in the street passing us yet again. One of them then exclaimed yo, that's them. But seemed to look away behind us again. We didn't think too much about it and just continued to walk. When we arrived, my friend said I could stay on the couch for the night because it was pretty late, but I knew I would be home in 10 minutes by bike, which by the way is a rented city bike, which is important for later and I didn't want to bother his roommates, so I just said no. I added that I was used to this so there was really no problem and he shouldn't worry. Boy, was I wrong. I packed my stuff and said goodbye to my friend, put on my headset and rode towards my grandma's place. After one minute, I saw a sketchy guy on the road and I just put some distance and that was it. I turned to take the usual shortcut, a narrow path with a big rock at the entrance to avoid cars on the street. But this time there was a car stopped right there, all doors open and the engine still on. Now, it didn't surprise me too much because there were a lot of these in the neighborhood. As silly as I was, I just assumed it was the way these groups hung out together, smoking pot, music blasting out of these open cars. It was something that I Used to see every night in the environment that I was living in at the time. The thing is, the path being too narrow, I couldn't just pass by speeding on my bike. So I got off the bike and started walking by, only to jump back a few meters further and then ride again. When I was a few meters from the car, a man appeared from the complete darkness with a disturbing grin on his face. I realized that there were at least three other guys behind me, just standing there, watching. The guy came in just in front of me, squeezing my front wheel between his legs, silent and staring at me with his disturbing smile. My brain was on full alert, but I was feeling slow and hazy because of the substances that I had in my system prior. I rolled the bike back and started to turn back, saying something like, okay, I got it. In the middle of my turn, the man repeated himself, squeezing the wheel again. Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my neck with his hand, forcing me to lean down. Now I knew I was in a real shitty situation. He was making fun of me, saying to his friends, oh, what am I gonna do now? What am I gonna do now? And laughing like a maniac. Just so you know how this is hilariously stupid. People usually say that I look like a nice and chill guy and I have round glasses. That guy was rather muscular, shirtless and full of bad hash and cocaine. At some point, I had managed to free myself from his grip and then took a few steps back and turned. I was now facing back to him, and that's when he threw a punch on the side of my head. White flash. I fell on the ground, head first on my back. I was hyperventilated and in a state of shock. I started to search in my pocket and bag, took my phone, headset, papers, everything that I had on me. I then heard the voice of a girl saying, enough, leave him alone already. But he didn't pay attention as he was going through my papers. She obviously knew him and was part of their group lying down on the road. I was now paralyzed in fear. I remember I was afraid to draw attention on myself if I tried to stand up. Also that I was afraid he would just beat me up and break my arms and legs or roll over me if they decided to go. As the scene just took place near the back of the car, but apparently more interested in my belongings, I decided to stand up. The girl standing near the guy looked at me and then said, you need to go now. So I took my bike and started to walk away. The other guys were around, watching in complete Silence. Then suddenly, I heard the man screaming. I'm gonna kill you, bitch. Absolutely terrified, I threw the bike and started to sprint toward my friend's flat. I heard him run behind me on almost the whole street before he gave up. I've never ran that fast, even in sports class. I knocked at my friend's door. I couldn't breathe. He opened the door, sat me down, called the police, and then gave me a huge glass of water. I woke up his roommate. He appeared more annoyed by all of the noise and the fact that I could have brought these men to the apartment than anything else. I finally slept on the couch. This isn't even the end of my nightmare. The next day, around noon, I had called my friend, asking him to help me try to search for anything they would have left behind. We met at the scene. I found my now empty wallet, and he found a little sachet full of cocaine. I also found a dead crow. On my way back, I had noticed a car very similar to the one of last night in a street nearby. It wasn't moving, but the engine was on. It was bright daylight and I was going home to sleep. When I arrived in the parking lot of my grandma's place, I heard a car honking. I turned back. It was the same car I saw earlier. It just stopped in the middle of the empty road. The men were throwing me a killer look, screeching tires, and they were then gone in seconds. I was now extremely paranoid. I walked to the doors, looked all around if anyone was watching me, removed my name from the letterboxes, and then went inside. That night, I just laid in bed with a butcher knife right under my pillow. They all had the information about me. I was absolutely terrified that they would come back at night and hurt my grandmother. The next day, I headed back to my parents in the countryside again, this is not even the end. For no reason, the town's bicycle agency refused to take the police report about the bike theft, so I had to pay the full penalty. I've lived like a recluse for about two years at my parents in the countryside. Feeling highly depressed, I felt like no one could understand my distress and no one would try to help me. At the moment, I felt alone. What still really disturbs me to this day is the fact that even after he mugged me and had all of my possessions, he still wanted to beat me up only for sadistic pleasure. I'm so glad that I have good legs and that I was able to run and get away. I now have severe ptsd. When I try to sleep and also a lot of anger and feeling of injustice inside of me.
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- [164:00]
Narrator
The story was told to me by my uncle and I figured I'd share it. Now. Just a fair warning. This story is really dark. This happened when my uncle was about 12 years old back in 1980 in Ottawa on Lake Michigan. Him, my dad and aunt were all little kids at the time and had been living in the house my grandfather had built about five years prior. The house was a single story ranch and sat on an acre of land next to a really large stretch of woods. It was a warm summer evening at about 10pm and my uncle and my dad were in their bedroom with the windows open since it was so warm outside. Suddenly they were awoken by the sound of distant screaming coming from the woods. My uncle and my dad shot him from their beds and then ran to go tell my grandfather. He got up and my grandmother and my aunt and uncle and dad all followed him outside to the front porch. He used a flashlight and he shined it towards the woods, but it was really dark and he couldn't really see anything, that is, except for a very faint orange glow deep into the distance. He went back inside and used the phone in the kitchen and he had called some of his buddies to come over and like a scene right out of a horror movie. Eighteen minutes later, two pickup trucks full of guys with shotguns then arrived. My grandfather made my grandmother, my uncle, dad and aunt and uncle wait inside the house while they went into the woods to investigate. My uncle said they were gone for a really long time and my grandmother had started worrying. At about 1am the guys finally returned, but they were all really pale and wouldn't really say much about what they saw. When my grandmother had asked about what happened, my grandfather had made the kids go back to bed and then took her to the garage on the other side of the house to talk to her. He didn't tell my uncle what happened until years later and it's no wonder that he didn't Tell my grandmother in front of them. Well, when they went into the woods, after walking deeply into it, they found an abandoned campsite with a smoldering fire, beer cans everywhere, and a moonshine still. And on a nearby tree was the horrifying sight of a naked black man beaten and hung in a noose with a KKK flag stitched to his chest. There's more, but I'm gonna leave it out because it's truly graphic. My grandfather said that it was the most horrifying thing he'd ever seen. They then immediately turned around and left. He went back in daylight a few days later, but the body had been buried with another KKK flag being used as the marker. Now, you're probably hoping some sick people were arrested and that justice was brought to the family of this person. But unfortunately, no. My grandfather never called the sheriff. Unfortunately, the Monroe county sheriffs are extremely corrupt and some of them are even KKK members themselves. And some still are to this day. And even the sheriff is part of a well known biker gang. So no report was ever made because it probably would have gotten thrown out and probably would have put a huge target on the back of my grandfather as well as his buddies. You won't find this story online because it was never reported and a lot of people probably don't want this out there, but I just had to share it so there's some record of it. Just please don't go investigating this. It might still really piss off some people in those parts. But if you ask any locals that lived there for a really long time, they'll tell you that woods was a well known hangout for the KKK back in that day. This happened to me when I was 23. One night I went to a restaurant in the city. I'm not saying which restaurant or which city for privacy, but it was a restaurant that had a bar in it. On this particular night, I had ordered my food and soda. I didn't order any alcoholic beverages. I was going to drive myself home afterwards anyway. After my food arrived, just as I was about to start eating, there was an older guy one table over and he was just staring at me. Then he smiled and looked away. I didn't think too much of it and just started eating my food. When I had ate about half of my food and finished some of my drink, I had excused myself to go to the restroom. After I left the restroom, I went back to my table and that same guy at the one table over me was staring at me yet again. And he did it for A few seconds longer. This time I was starting to get really creeped out. So I just went back to eating my food. However, when I took a drink of my soda, it had tasted really weird. It didn't taste as it should, but I shrugged it off and drank the rest of it. Then I paid and left. When I got to my car, my stomach immediately started feeling funny. It wasn't hurting, it was just feeling kind of funny. But I didn't really pay too much attention to it. I just drove myself home. I got home at about 10pm When I got back to my house and went inside, I had started to feel a really sharp pain in my stomach. So I went and sat down on the couch. Then after about a minute, the pain had started to settle. But then five minutes later, it started up again. Only this time it was hurting worse. It seriously hurt so bad that I began crying. I must have ate something bad at the restaurant, but I didn't think it was that at first. Then the pain settled again after about a minute. Then about 15 minutes later, I had started to feel another feeling in my stomach. I went to the bathroom just in case something bad was about to happen. Shortly after, I was right. Then I actually started to feel really sick to my stomach. So I leaned over the toilet and began throwing up. I was puking my guts out and I was doing it so much that I was throwing up like that possessed girl from the Exorcist. I then got down on my knees and my stomach started really hurting horribly. At first I thought it was just food poisoning from the food that I ate at the restaurant. But every time I tried getting up, my stomach would still hurt. So I had pulled my phone out of my pants pocket and called 911. I told them what was going on and they then arrived. In about five minutes, I told the paramedics everything and how my stomach really hurt when I tried to get up. So they had strapped me on the gurney and took me to the hospital. Once we arrived, I had told the doctor and nurse everything as well. I even told them what time I was at the restaurant and everything else. They said they'd call the restaurant and explain. A little while later they came back and they were explaining that I was throwing up, not because of food poisoning, but that someone had spiked my drink. They told me that apparently the restaurant manager had looked at the security cameras and he had saw a guy spike my drink with something. They also described him to be the exact same guy at the restaurant who was staring at me previously. I was shocked I never thought something like this would happen to me. Bot and I had spent the whole night in the hospital for observation. The next morning, the police came into my room and told me that the restaurant manager had showed them the camera footage of the guy spiking my drink. They also said they were able to catch the guy, and he was arrested. The police asked if I wanted to press charges, and I told them yes. Later that afternoon, I got to head home. The police were the ones who drove me home. Later that night, the police had called me. It took some time, but he ended up being sentenced for quite a while in jail. That on top of additional charges that he previously had to the guy who tried to kill me by spiking my drink. Fuck you. And I really hope you learn your lesson in jail. But yeah, I don't think I'll ever forget that night for as long as I live. I had two friends, a couple. The guy was really kind and funny. Well, except to her. I really enjoyed being around him when he was calm. He had a rough childhood, didn't have any family, and couch surfed. Even in high school, he was in and out of jail, but they had dated for years and had children. He was extremely abusive to her and everyone in the friend group that I knew. It was sort of normalized because most of the men were all abusive to their girlfriends, mine included. He had went to jail for a time period, and she had actually moved on and seemed to be happy. Then he got out. They had seemed to get back together, but she was making it pretty obvious that she was over it and had started standing up for herself. She had enjoyed the freedom and happiness she had when he was in jail. And she wanted away from him. He didn't take this well. She was basically all he had, and he refused to let her go. One morning, I got a phone call that he had killed her. And then spent hours in her home before he finally killed himself. Shortly after that, my boyfriend and I were fighting. And he literally said to me, you know, I'm gonna end up doing to you what he did to her. And I left that very night after six years of severe physical abuse. I like to think that she's part of the reason that I had the strength to leave and never look back. There were warning signs, but no one thought he'd ever take it that far. I now feel so ashamed that I didn't take action or at least help her before I got that far. I knew this guy from living on the bottom floor with his girlfriend in the apartment building. That I lived at too. He was very friendly and very polite. He worked every day and he would get dropped off right in front of the building and talk and made everyone laugh. One thing I noticed was that his girlfriend hardly ever talked or spoke to anyone. One day I introduced myself and she was nervously watching for her boyfriend to pull up from work. That's my guess. Anyways. She and I began talking a little bit more often. But she was very careful about the times that she would talk to me. I had also seen a couple of bruises on her face and hands. She was such a fragile, beautiful woman that was depressed and absolutely abused by her boyfriend. Anyways, her boyfriend was a class clown, so to speak, to everyone else. But I could see through him by now, so I just kept my distance. One evening he was drinking outside with the other neighbors. I had to go check my mail. It was getting late. So a little before dark I had done this. I had left my door unlocked because I was just really young and naive. This was also my first apartment. At just 18. I got back from checking my meal and everyone had gone inside. I went into my apartment, took a shower and got ready for bed and then got in bed. Ten minutes later I had heard a man snoring. It was coming from my bedroom closet. Immediately I freaked out and then ran out to get another neighbor to take a look inside my closet to find out who it was. Well, that same guy was passed out from drinking. I was hysterical, terrified. The neighbor got him up and then took him to his home to his girlfriend. Well, three years later she had apparently left him because he was violently abusing her. She went to go live with her parents. Well, he had found her, killed both of her parents and her grandmother I believe. And he had beat up the girlfriend so badly that she was paralyzed and in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She had to witness him murdering her parents and grandmother. It was years later when I had found out about this. It's so devastating and so sad. I often wondered if he was going to assault me too. I can't even imagine what she had went through. Losing her loved ones to that monster. Everyone liked him. Hell, I did too. He seemed really funny and nice. But meeting his girlfriend really changed my mind about him real quick. Years ago I had a co worker who I got to know in an acquaintance sort of way. She was married and I had met her husband several times. He was nice looking, he was older than her and he was very friendly. One day on her lunch break she. She had told me that she was going to pick up some pictures from a local pharmacy. This was in the 90s. The pics were from a recent cruise. When she had returned from lunch. She was very upset because apparently the pharmacy had refused to print the pictures. She said it was because they were naked pictures of both her and her husband. She then revealed some very personal stuff about the two of them that seemed to suggest that the husband was sexual in a way that I'd never even heard of. I was really young at the time, so I had chalked the weirdness up to me being inexperienced. She also told me that her sister had been raped and murdered several years prior. She said that her family had thought that her husband committed the crime because the sister had two children. One was a baby and the older child had been knocked out but was able to remember the killer had hit his face, suggesting it was someone the child knew well. My co worker was a staunch supporter of the husband and said the family just didn't like her husband. I believed her well. Several years later the husband was arrested, charged and convicted of rape and murder of the sister. DNA testing was actually advanced enough to test some of the evidence at the scene. This case was also actually a Forensic Files episode. Long story short, the husband died in prison of cancer. Apparently my co worker had still supported him even after his conviction. I was young, 18 years old and working my first ever job that I still work to this day. I was assigned the night shift in a not so great area in a relatively nice city on the the west coast. The night was pretty much like any other until I was walking back inside my work building and I was approached by a man who was mumbling things under his breath and had both of his hands in his coat pockets. I tell him to maintain a safe distance from me as I then lightly push on his chest and step back. He takes a step forward and mumbles a few more things under his breath. I attempt to step back but and I ask him to please back away from my person but he just continues to step closer and closer to me before I knew what to do next. He had then pulled a very dirty looking kitchen knife out of his right pocket and then held it to the left side of my neck. I put my hands halfway up so that he could see them and I tried to tell him to just please calm down and run off. I even said that I wouldn't contact the police if he were to just leave and never come back. He becomes enraged and starts mumbling a few more things that I still to this day can't make out. I can feel the knife being pressed harder into my neck and his eyes start opening wider and wider and I then realize that I need to act fast or else I might be the victim in this situation. The second I noticed that he didn't have his eyes directly on me, I very slightly but quickly moved, moved my head to the right and pulled it as far back as I could while still trying to maintain my stance with my right hand. I grabbed his knife hand and I tried to get the strongest grip over it I could with my left hand. I cupped his elbow and then pushed my chest and arms towards the direction of his body, trying to push as much of my body weight as I could into the sky. While doing this, I had pushed the knife too close into the direction of his body and well, the knife stuck into the center of his neck causing him to drop to the ground almost immediately. While he was on the ground, I then ran Inside to dial 911 to get both the police as well as paramedics on the scene as quickly as possible to try and save this guy's life. Unfortunately, the guy had died by the time I ran back outside to be with this guy. Before paramedics arrived on scene, the police show up and then instantly put me in cuffs and search my person. I was put into the back of the squad car and told to stay quiet until asked to give my side of the story. I had sat in the back of the car for around an hour as I had waited for my boss to show up. She shows up and shows the officers the cameras. I was released out of custody and gave my story to the detectives. Turns out the guy was high on meth and just wandering around the streets with a random knife in his pocket. I really thank the martial arts classes that I had loosely taken in my late teens as well as my ability to let adrenaline kick in and just do its job. I still think about it every day and I oddly feel bad about the whole thing. I know that taking another man's life was just unavoidable in that situation, but I sometimes get really angry with myself that I just wasn't able to calm him down a bit more with my words. On the opposite side of the aftermath though, I feel exactly the same as I did day to day before I ever killed that man. I worked in retail in a super shady area of a small town for five years. There's been some documentaries on crime in the region. My husband still works there so it feels like I do too, knowing all the same folks That I used to deal with still come in. Several of my regulars were either murdered or became murderers, Almost all drug related. We sold cell phones. We had a lot of people coming straight out of the doors of prison and one of their first stops was getting a new phone. These guys were almost always nice. I can't remember personally having a bad customer service experience in those situations, but I mean, I'd probably be in a damn good mood if I just got out of prison too. Anyway, my first experience with a customer in this situation was a guy in his 50s. He seemed very clueless about phones, which wasn't terribly surprising for that age range. At some point he tells me it's because he just got out after spending 20 years in prison for a string of armed robberies. He then tells me to google him. He seemed very proud of his crimes. One day he comes in and he had actually asked me how to watch porn on his phone. I think I must have just stared at him because he then immediately goes, never mind, I'll just get my niece to help me. Okay, man, bye. I said, all jokes aside, he was always so clearly struggling to adjust. He constantly seemed stressed and vented about stuff whenever he came in to pay his bills. And then one day he decides to break into a home, tie a couple up and beat the absolute shit out of them, rob their house, all while their kid was in the other room. Thankfully they survived, but I'm not so sure he intended for them to. Who fucking knows? This guy always stood out to me as a prime example of a ticking time bomb. I think it very easily could have been murder that he did instead of robbing. He needed so much help, and it couldn't have been more obvious. It was, to me at least, a fucking salesperson who saw him maybe a couple of times a month. After 20 years separated from society, it was just way too much to come back to. And I always thought that he just desperately wanted to get back to the routine that he did understand. I don't know though. Most of the murderers I knew were from shooting people over drugs. Significantly less thought provoking than the aforementioned customer, I think. Anyways, one of them shot a man right outside a bar over a woman. Another one shot a bar up over drug money. Another one was a father who murdered his own son over drugs. A man I knew went from looking like a regular member of society to tweaking and sweating every second he's in the store to fucking dead in a bathtub. And less than a year, his mother was a customer too. And she had come in to talk to me about his death. She swears that it was a murder committed by his girlfriend, even though it was ruled an overdose. She says that he had marks on his wrists like he had been tied up. He used to SIM swab constantly, which you only do when you're scamming someone after the SIM card with functional service that you had just sold them. I only bring that up as a possible motive for murder. He was a good guy making very bad decisions. This was one of the heaviest on my mind, especially since we got on a first name basis with each other before he went downhill so very fast. Hey everyone. That's about it for today's stories. If you have your own story that you would like to send, you can send it in@southerncannibal.com or you can email it at southerncannibalstoriesmail.com I look forward to telling your story. Have a good night or good day everyone and remember to always stay hungry.
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