A (0:04)

Hey everyone, before we get started in today's stories, I do need to give some warnings. These stories are pretty disturbing, from people being murdered to attempted murder. And some of the stories do mention sexual assault. Very briefly. If these stories are too dark for you, maybe you should skip this one and listen to something else. But for all those who are all ready to continue, let's begin. And remember to always stay hungry. I recently acquired a new roommate. The entire situation should have never happened, but I needed someone to help with the rent. So a Craigslist posting later he moved in. His name was Greg and he disclosed to me that he did have some strange sleeping behaviors. Sleep talking, sleepwalking and night terrors. Funny thing was that I had a history of sleepwalking myself, but only on rare occasions. The first incident occurred about one week later when I had heard him screaming in the middle of the night. Since we both sleep in separate rooms on different sides of the house, the screams sounded distant, but enough to scare me so much that I ran to check on him. As I got closer to his bedroom, he stopped screaming so I just went back to bed. For the next month, he had no issues. I noticed that he had no friends or family that would visit and I never saw or heard him on the phone or texting. Then another random night, Greg started screaming the same thing. I got up and started to go to his room, but he'd stopped. Then one night I was awoken by screaming in my bedroom. I couldn't see anything in the panic so I turned on the bedside lamp and he was at the foot of my bed wearing some sleeping clothes. Athletic shorts and a T shirt scared me, so I started screaming and woke him up. He apologized and went back to bed. Then the scariest thing happened. About two nights later, I awoke to clanking. Sounded like tools and hammers tapping. I turned on the light to see Greg kneeling down in a corner working on something with his hands. A few seconds after turning the light on, Greg froze, then slowly turned his upper body around and stared blankly at me while I laid in bed. I was beyond creeped out, so I slowly slid out of bed and left the house. After sleeping in my truck down the road in an empty church parking lot, I returned to the house at about 8 in the morning. Greg was gone. All of his belongings were gone. No signs of him anywhere. It was like he never lived there. I don't know any of his friends or family, so I had no one to call about him. Days turned to weeks, weeks into months. When I moved out after the lease was up. I was moving my furniture out of my bedroom. In the corner of the room where I last saw Greg kneeling down, I realized the floor vent for the air conditioning was loose. Inside the floor vent was an envelope with a ton of pictures of me sleeping. The pictures had handwritten dates and times written on the back of the pictures. The only other item was a whittled down wooden broom handle brought to a point, I truly believe Greg was preparing to kill me that night and he realized it because it was the sleepwalking Greg that was going to do it. He left to save my life. It appears Greg had been coming to my room almost nightly and he was working on making the broom handle a stabbing weapon. And I had never heard, not until the last night I saw him. Before any judgment is placed, I would like to say that I wasn't in the best state of mind prior nor during the situation. I just went through a particularly difficult breakup, a suicide attempt, moved back in with a parent, and then experienced a sexual assault by a trusted friend. I didn't have a good judge of character and I was by far hitting my rock bottom. After several months in my mother's home and after the sexual assault, I realized I desperately needed to get out of that atmosphere and try to get back up on my feet. I found a cheap home for rent and began my life all over again. It wasn't the nicest place, certainly not as warm and comforting as my last place, but it would do temporarily. Shortly after moving in, still not in the right mindset and with a huge lack of self care, I began using almost anything I could get my hands on. Many psychedelics, acid, mushrooms and mdma. Anyone who has experienced MDMA can tell you it gives you this incredible sense of happiness and content, which at the time I had neither. These short term bouts of false happiness sucked any remaining serotonin from my brain and it left me feeling just, if not more empty inside. On top of that, after my suicide attempt I was abruptly taken off all of my medications as I used them to hurt myself. Prior, this meant my sleeping medication and with it trickled down that familiar insomnia, then my ssri, which when stopping abruptly can exceedingly send you into a state of manic depression and confusion. And last but not least, my anxiety medication. I relied on this for years. It took me out of my agoraphobia and it helped me with my PTSD triggers which having my attacker live just several blocks away on the same very street as another individual who abused me from ages 11 to 14. I simply lost all abilities to cope. After some time of intense withdrawals from my anxiety medication and even experiencing a seizure, I began to buy pills. The only ones available to me were Xanax, which I quickly developed a tolerance to and at my worst was taking anywhere from 12 to 20 milligrams a day. Because of the Xanax abuse, there were many things that I didn't completely recall, such such as my wedding. It was to a bass playing musician that I had only known for a month as well as of the month we spent together. My most vivid memories were lying on the couch watching the Office on Netflix, religiously shaking and sweating in between buys and re ups for my pill dealer. I began drinking heavily and hanging out in the wrong crowd as well. The grunge punk crowd, the ones that couch surfed much of their lives, destroyed things in their path, didn't work, and commonly used others burning each individual bridge as they passed. As I was in no state to actually care, I enjoyed their company and one in particular I'll refer to as Sideshow Bob started to become what I thought was my best friend, even wearing a dress at my wedding. As my maid of honor, he often wore women's clothes not because he was transgender, but because he simply liked to. Some made fun of him for this, but I thought it was cool that he didn't care what others thought. He really seemed to have a kind and goofy nature about him that I admired, but as a man that wore women's clothes, he'd often get into my closet. I'd like to add that Bob also had very poor hygiene. He wore no deodorant, he showered rarely, and his feet. Those feet left a smell that permanently absorbed into the carpet fibers that stayed even when I moved out. He would often hop off the couch around 4pm or so and rush to his pizza delivery job. He never stopped to shower or even brush his teeth. He'd even wake up and throw back on the same uniform that he'd been wearing for weeks, which stunk of cheap weed, pizza grease and feet. On New Year's Eve 2016, I left my at the time husband after a serious withdrawal and being around him completely sober, it became obvious he was using meth. I was suspicious of it before as I used it too when I was much younger along with nearly half of my family members. You can always sense it. He knew before marrying me that this was the big no for me. My brother in prison, my father's heart attack and death only all contributed to meth use. He knew this when he married me, yet kept it a secret. I do blame myself partly for this. It's the kind of thing that occurs when you marry a stranger. About a year later, he had passed away from a shot laced with fentanyl. They found his body five days later. After the separation from my husband, I had allowed Bob to stay. He didn't have a room. He slept on the couch. He didn't contribute to groceries or bills, and quite frankly, turned my home into a disgusting mess. But since my OCD seemed to have dissolved into my drinking and I preferred not being alone with my thoughts, I didn't really mind. Within a week of leaving my husband, Bob grew increasingly more obsessed with the thought of us being together. I made it very clear I had no intentions with him and I valued our friendship. Not to mention I was about to experience my first divorce and all the shame that came along with it. I started avoiding the home. I started avoiding him. Every time I'd return home, he'd be there in tears. Some days I'd find him not only in my clothes, but in my bed. Eventually, he quit his job to have a better chance of seeing me. He'd follow me room to room, demanding to know why it is that I can't see us together. Eventually, I told him if it didn't stop, he needed to leave. Button. He was quick to throw back into my face that legally he was a tenant in my home and that he needed 30 days notice. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, he told me. Things grew much more aggressive and I grew more uncomfortable and afraid by the days. His tears turned to anger, his questions turned to screaming. One very vivid memory I have is him staring me directly in the eyes. Red faced, spit flying, screaming, you know, I am just so sick of being rejected by women. He was no longer my goofy drinking buddy. He was someone that I absolutely could not be around. A police officer suggested that I get a restraining order to get him off the premises, which I did. Then I kept the doors locked. His only few possessions in my home were a guitar and amp, which I had placed on the back porch. That notified him. He immediately tried to break into the home, kicking the old front door with such force I could see it begin to crack at the deadbolt, leaving dark shoe prints on the cracked white paint. The police had trouble serving him. He quit his job. He had no actual address, although I had provided them with his car description, license plate and his friend's addresses. Morning, noon and night, I'd find myself crying, pressed up against that door, hoping that it wouldn't break open. Every time I called the police, he had already left. I find myself up at night, staring out the windows, watching that loud green car of his drive by, feeling my pulse rise, phone in hand. For weeks I received surprise visits from him. Most were terrifying. Occasionally, some were thawed out. One evening, he had a mutual friend knock on the door, which I happily opened, only for him to quickly jump out from behind the door and attempt entering. I moved as swiftly and strongly as I could to slam the door and lock it, kicking again, calling 911 again, he'd leave again. After a few months, he moved on. He found a girlfriend who'd kicked him out quite quickly. He responded by beating her unconscious and attempting to cut her throat. Luckily, a neighbor heard the commotion and Bob quickly ran. He got off easy on those charges, but of course if you google his name, you see the repeated charges of serious assault. I spoke with his exes. I saw the photos of what he had done to their faces, their bodies. All I can think about is how that could have been me. The last time I saw him was back in my hometown at the local grocery store. As I had waited for a cup of coffee after a tiring 10 hour shift at my job. He nodded with a kind smile. I froze, heart throbbing handshaking it was that day that I moved an hour and a half away. It's this month that I'll be moving back. Names have been changed to protect the deceased and for anonymity as well. After high school many years ago, I was in a bad place. My guardian had kicked me out after graduation. She didn't help me find a place to stay, so I lived in my car for a couple of months. I met some heavy metal dudes at work one day. I had seen them around town and all of my other friends knew who they were. Everyone loved them. We became friends over a couple of months and they offered for me to move in with them. I agreed. Looking back on it now, I wish I had just stayed in my car. My two main roommates were brothers named Jack and Cody. They were in a band. They also believed in the occult and anything of that sort. I never really believed in that stuff, but I'm not one to tell someone what they should believe. They had me live with them rent free for several months, so who was I to complain? Being the only female in a house full of young men, I was always looking over my shoulder. You never know who you can trust. Turns out I was right to worry. Over time, their friends had started to stay with us for longer periods of time, sometimes weeks. Their friends were another group of brothers that they had gone to school with. There were five brothers in total, but only two stayed with us consistently. The younger brother, Sam, was very polite. He cleaned up after himself and he always helped with the household chores. The other brother, Kevin, had a laundry list of mental problems. He had apparently done some bad drugs back in the day and it had developed into what seemed like psychosis of the religious sort. He had done time in prison for assaulting a woman with the Bible. He would often look you in the eyes and tell you he could see how you would die. Once he told me that I was possessed by a demon and that I needed my soul to be cleansed. Everyone in the house knew that he had these problems, but he was their friend. They had helped him through the hard times and gave him a place to stay. Otherwise he would be on the streets. I was always on guard around him. After the things he told me. No one else seemed to be as concerned as I was. They really should have been. One day I was sleeping and my phone rang. It was my boss. He asked if I could come into work an hour early. It was only 12pm I was broke and, well, I had nothing better to do, so I said yes. I got up and began getting ready to leave. I walked out into the living room to see Sam and Jack sitting on the couch while Kevin sat on the floor by the TV. He was watching scripture videos on YouTube. Some real end of the day stuff that was fairly common. So I went about my business. I just said goodbye and left for work. My shift at work was almost complete when the phone rang. My boss answered, handed the phone to me and said, for you. I was just a cashier, so I assumed it was a friend that couldn't reach me on my phone. I answered the phone and I had heard a man's voice that I didn't recognize. Hi, this is Detective Nelson. Something happened to your apartment today and we need you to come to the station to talk about it. I left for work immediately. I had assumed one of the brothers had been arrested for drug dealing or something. I was very wrong. I got into the station and was buzzed in. An officer escorted me to a small cold room with a camera. He gave me a bottle of water and left me by myself for about 30 minutes. My mind was racing, thinking about what could have happened. He came back in and he informed me that Kevin had stabbed and killed Jack. At around 1pm I was shocked. I had just left the house an hour before it happened and everything seemed fine. I asked if there had been a fight. The detective informed me that there hadn't been a fight, but it seemed to have happened out of nowhere. Whatever it was. I gave my statement to the police and left with nowhere to go, still in shock and confused, out of my mind. Our apartment was a crime scene, so I went to another friend's house to watch the news report. Since the police wouldn't give me any information on the case. Over the next couple of days, the information began to be released. Kevin hadn't just stabbed Jack once, not twice, but he had stabbed him over and over and nearly decapitated him. After the murder, he ran down the road still holding the murder weapon. He called 911 and then informed them what he had done. I watched the news report in horror. We had known he was unstable, but this he had fully confessed to the brutal murder and he provided the police with his notebooks. He had apparently been planning to murder all of his brothers, my roommates and me. He thought we were possessed by demons and this was the only way to free us. Luckily, none of his other intended victims were there that day. Sam unfortunately witnessed the murder, but luckily he escaped. If I hadn't gotten that call from my boss, I can honestly say that I wouldn't be alive today. Ok, so this is gonna be a long one about my creepy uncle who used all kinds of weird technology to spy on anyone he could, including my family and I. So my family of five happily welcomed my uncle, who's my mom's brother, into our home as a roommate a little over 10 years ago, maybe even longer. We'll call him David for the purpose of this post. David, over 40 years old at the time, was very kind at first. He was also hard working and to himself for most of the years that he had spent in our home. He's always been really interested in technology and spyware. If it had a camera or could listen and record, he was highly interested in it. He was pretty private about his room and computers and we never invaded his personal space because he never gave us a reason to. As time passed, I'd say six years, we noticed his behavior got a little more introverted. In private he was extremely depressed and paranoid, but he refused to address these issues so we left him alone for the most part. As far as I know, he was involved with chat rooms and listening devices. He started drinking pretty heavily and would sometimes steal my mother's prescription pills to catch a high again. These things were pretty much touch and go. And no one in the household really knew how to address his worsening behavior. My dad would occasionally question him and his actions. We don't allow alcohol in the home because my dad used to struggle with substance abuse himself and he's been living sober for quite some time now. Anyways, we gave him an stop drinking or leave. This worked for some time, but he would just hide from us when he drank, lock himself in his basement room for hours, sometimes even days. We knew he was drinking though because at random hours of the day you could hear anger fueled screams coming from his room in the basement level. That or loud techno music that would thump until 12am the last two years specifically have been really hostile and strange between him and our family. Anytime he would return home he'd be highly intoxicated and ready for bed. None of us would interfere because it wasn't uncommon to get into an argument with him about his odd behavior and heavy drinking. I was a 19 year old female at the time and my father was over 45. He became really hostile towards both of us. He would purchase a lot of strange devices designed for listening or watching, which made us all intensely uneasy and on edge. My father told me that once he came home with these new sunglasses and excitedly told my dad that they're really great for watching people and that he had spent the whole day at the park lurking on strangers. I don't believe that he had any malicious intent towards anyone, but his fascination with spying was honestly unnerving and a big red flag. We demanded that he leave and seek residence elsewhere, gave him a deadline and even offered him helping finding a new place to live. He ignored us for weeks and pretty much refused to leave our home. My mother didn't know how to handle the situation, especially because it was her own brother. She feels like we've betrayed our family or forsaken him. Anyways. It wasn't uncommon to find small strange devices all around the house that were absolutely unexplainable if you've never seen them before. Things like movement tracking devices, infrared cameras or mics that would record any audio that occurred in the room it was placed in. He also had control of our wi fi and I'm positive that he had access to our browser search history or wifi related information. In general, if we confronted him about his behavior or asked him to pack up and leave, he would threaten us. He would always say things like I see everything you do. I heard what you said the other night. Although never knowing what kind of information he was trying to blackmail us with. We were all very uncomfortable with the idea of our privacy being breached. Not having anything to hide, though, his threats were pretty hollow and ineffective. My dad wanted to test David and see if he was using devices at our home while he was away from the house. My dad would wait for David to leave in the morning and go to work, and my dad would then shut off the WI fi, sometimes even the power breaker to see if he would react while away from the house. Sure enough, David would return to our house immediately and question him. Why is the wifi off? Why is the power off? My dad would ask him how he knew about the WI fi being off while he was away from the home. Strange behavior. Needless to say, each time my dad did this, he would return to the house immediately to recover the WI fi and his devices. If he was home and the WI fi went down, this man would have the ultimate tantrum. Everyone would undergo a serious interrogation and be bombarded with accusations involving the WI fi not working. He began threatening my dad specifically and he would show him his weird spyware that he purchased. David would place the device against the wall and he could hear anyone speaking throughout the home. So much as faint whispers could be heard from the device. David wanted us to know that he could hear everything that we were doing. It was a scare tactic. In order for him to remain in the house with us, we when he continued to refuse to leave our home after being given a proper eviction notice, we had to seek assistance from the police and court to have him legally removed from our home. We also changed all of the locks in our home to prevent any unwelcome visits from David. Anyways, he's been out of our home for nearly six months and we're still experiencing strange things that have us all on the edge of our seats. Strange faint beeps from different areas of the house, unknown Bluetooth devices that are supposedly 10 meters or less away, and wires that run all around the house. I think we're all just paranoid from his consistent spying over the years, but sometimes I still come across strange, unidentifiable devices all around the home. Most of them look inactive and not in use, but I end up smashing them regardless. David tried to insist that we keep his WI fi service after he left, but we had no interest in using his WI fi and immediately removed his router from our home. I discovered that David had climbed through one of our backyard basement windows into the home. At some point, I only noticed that someone had been in the backyard because of the fresh snow which revealed his Enormous boot like footprints. The night that the snow fell, no one was home until hours later. My brother had moved out nearly two months before. My mother returned home from work at 3am My dad returned home at around 12am My sister had been staying with a friend for the weekend and I returned home after 7am after work. I go into the backyard every day to throw a ball for the dog and when I came across the prints I immediately felt scared because no one in my family wears a size 12 shoe and after questioning everyone in the home they all assured me that they had not been in the backyard as of last night. It was obvious that someone, most likely David, had entered our home through the backyard. For what, we don't know. We haven't found any changes in our home since his unwelcome entry. We have filed a restraining order against him for safety measures, but to no avail. He's still spamming my mother with cryptic texts and threats over the phone. We're so thankful that David is no longer in our home, but somehow he's still traumatizing us with his all seeing eyes. This was back in 2012, but it still gives me the heebie jeebies when I think about it. I had just gotten out of a bad relationship and was living with my grandparents. I was hunting for apartments and I found a house that was only a few blocks from the group home I work at. I thought great. Even in the snowy weather I'd be able to walk. I call the number on the craigslist ad and set a time to check it out. I boogie on over and am greeted by a man in his mid-30s. He seemed very awkward at first, but he showed me around and said if things worked out I could take my pic of either of the available bedrooms. He started making small talk and was becoming increasingly weird. He was asking me questions about how old I was, if I smoked pot and if I was single. Not totally red flags, but the way he came off was just weird nonetheless. I say that I have to go and he gives me the email of the homeowners. Turns out it was his girlfriend's parents place. So I dawdle on home and email the couple, giving my references and income info as one does. A couple of days later the husband calls me and says hastily that the rooms are no longer available. I'm a little miffed, but what can I really do about it, right? Cut to a week later. My friend and I are hanging out and smoking pot and just shooting the crap. I can't remember how it came up but she mentioned that there's a website where you can see all the registered sex offenders. Of course our curiosity takes over and we look it up. I think you know where this is going. We scroll and scroll and eventually apartment Man. My jaw drops and I just can't believe what I'm seeing. His charge Incest with a minor. I don't know if anything would have happened, but I'm glad the homeowners turned me down. And what dumb luck that I'd stumbled across the website a week after I'm a female for introduction the story happened last year in 2019. My sister and I were international students in Sydney, Australia. As we were on a tight budget, we had rented a room for about four months. The house had three bedrooms with a shared toilet and shower. All rooms have no lock. The first room was occupied by the brother of the owner of the house, let's call him D. D was in his early 40s, about 5 foot 11 and with the average body type. The second room was occupied by D's friend, let's call him F. F was in his early 60s, he's probably 6:1 and with an average body type too. Then lastly, our room, the third room. Me and my sister had shared a room and it's not really a big deal since we're very close and as I mentioned, we're on a tight budget. We knew D as he was a friend's friend of my aunt. Here's the story. I arrived from work, rested for a bit and then went to shower. It was probably around 7ish PM and since it's winter it's pitch black outside. So when you enter our shower on the right side has a big sliding glass window painted with white so no one can see inside unless you open the window. Behind that window was our backyard with a table and chairs. So I went for a shower and I noticed that the window was slightly open, like a bit open. I didn't give much attention as I was thinking I cannot be seen from outside as it was only a very small opening. So I took a shower and I just went to the kitchen to get some food. Then D came in from the backyard with his dog. I just say hi and then continue what I'm doing. Months passed and my sister was studying and working, so most of the time we were not home during the day and just used the room to sleep at night. One time my sister had her late afternoon shift which was not her typical schedule as she was always on the early morning shift. I left for work and my sister was still sleeping, covered with a blanket all over her body since it was winter. We have the same body type, about 5 foot tall and petite. So sometimes you can't tell if there's someone under the blanket or it might just be pillows. My sister then woke up as she had heard some noise happening around the room. She then opened her eyes and saw some of our panties were scattered around the floor. She thinks that I might be running late and just throwing everything on the floor. She then saw my housemate F searching in our laundry basket looking for something. Then she saw F sniffing our panties. She was horrified and scared as F is a big man. My sister then pretended that she didn't see anything and asked F if he was looking for a charger. F was so shocked to see that my sister was in our bed and F then said that yes, he was just looking for a charger. After that happened, F had asked my sister not to tell anyone about what happened. My sister agreed as she was afraid that F might do something bad to her if she did. She went to work and then texted me about what happened. I was so shocked and afraid to go home because I'm the one who usually goes home first. My sister then told D what happened. I didn't go inside the house without D coming home. I was just waiting outside for him. We went inside without any conversation. He then installed a lock in our door that night. After that happened, my sister and I moved out after a week. But before we moved out, I was folding all of our clothes and I remembered that I still have some clothes hanging outside in the backyard. It was pitch black, but when my eyes adjusted to the dark, I then got our clothes. My eyes moved to the shower as I saw a very small opening. To my shock, when you're outside even that very small opening, you can see everything happening inside the shower. That is why D was usually outside in our dark backyard, but. Cause he can see everything inside the shower without us noticing him since it was pitch black dark outside. So I'm a freshman in college and I live in a suite with seven other guys. We all get along quite well with just some minor bumps now and then. I'm closest to the one named Andy, less close to Andy's roommate, Jack. I'm a tall and thin guy. Andy's bigger than me, but not taller, just a broader dude. Jack is a hockey player, so he's pretty ripped, but shorter than both Andy and I. Andy is usually a very relaxed guy. Jack is usually the aggregator. So last night I got home from a party and was pretty drunk. And my two suitemates had just gotten back from another party. Andy was blacked out. We danced around my room while I blasted music, and then Andy and Jack left to go smoke a joint. I began to FaceTime my girlfriend. And then I hear more knocks on my door, and I turn my laptop screen brightness off and shut off the sound. Andy and Jack walk in all high as hell, and Andy is still blacked out. Andy begins to get a little aggressive, and so I went with it, pushing each other back and forth. Next thing I know, Andy's eyes just went out. He was still looking around, but you could just tell he wasn't in his mind at all. It's as if he had just slipped into this odd trance. At that moment, he slams me against the wall, and his hand was around my neck, and I'm just like, hey, Andy, that's enough. But he's not letting go. Jag sees what's up, and he comes over to coax him away. And Andy's not having any of it. He's got his hand around my neck, pressing me against the wall, and he has this death stare looking straight into my eyes. So at this point, I start to freak out a little bit, and I'm really trying to get out of the hold. Eventually, Jack gets him off of me, and I lunge at Andy to push him out of my room once and for all. Andy instantly puts me in this deathlike chokehold where I can feel his arms getting tighter and tighter and my oxygen supply get lower. At this point, I'm terrified, and I'm yelling at Jack to please get him off of me. And yelling. I don't know how we got him off, but we were in a bit of a scuffle trying to move Andy out of the door. He's getting seriously aggressive trying to get through Jack's arms to me. I, at this point, jumped backwards and lunged for the knife that was laying on my desk. I pulled out the blade and yelled, andy, get the hell out of my room. I think something clicked in his head that told him that knives aren't to be messed with and that it wasn't worth it for him to come after me. At that point, I'm yelling at him, and Jack tells me to put the knife away. So I do, and we lunge at Andy again. I've got my arms around his torso, pushing him out the door, and he dumps a liter of Orange Crush on me. That was open. That was sitting on the mini fridge right next to us. He then Slips and falls in the soda. And while Jack grabbed his arms, I pushed him out of the door, shut it, and then promptly locked it. Now Andy is banging on the door, punching the door, yelling at me, you know, you're just a wimp. Open the door now. I'm not really sure why he's even doing this, but like I said, he was in this creepy trance. I've only seen him only like one other time. Get in. The banging continues and he's body slamming the door while yelling, I'm gonna break down this door and kill you. All the while he's milling about between slams and just staring into my peephole. My girlfriend is still on FaceTime and is freaking out so much, understandably. And I'm at the door holding the knife, just pressing the door shut. Andy had poured more soda under my door, but that didn't really do much other than make my floor all sticky. Jack eventually left and stopped trying to get him to leave. About 15 minutes of this, I decided this was enough and I had my girlfriend call Public safety saying there's a dispute in our suite and to come quickly. Ten minutes later, Public Safety shows up and he instantly complies with them to back away and sit down in a chair in the common room. I was honestly so damn terrified. And I'm glad I was still a bit drunk because if not, I probably would have been much more scared. Andy, please get some help because I'm still a bit spooked to leave my door open. It's August 18th. I'm glad the kid got out of there. It's actually quite terrifying how violent he was that night. The kid has really gone off the deep end though. He's really violent and just crazy. I'm really debating whether or not I should tell the school that he told me he was going to kill me because I know that will really mess up your chances of getting into other schools. But he did say it final. His dad came without notice today and he pulled him from the school. This was his last mess up and yeah, he's messed up a lot, but none of them were violent and his roommate is moving out too. I really hope that he gets the help that he needs. He's definitely got issues.