The Still-Living Are Telling Stories About When Someone Actually Tried to Kill Them

Yeah my mother. Multiple times. She is psychotic and tried to commit suicide by overdose twice too when my father tried to get her mental health counseling and even tried to get my sister killed. She tried to kill me by switching out my meds with blood thinners and painkillers.

Destroying my prescription medicine. Locking me in a room for 16 hours until my blood oxygenation reached only 22% and my sister stole the family car to drive me to ER because she had cut all the phone lines.

She also attacked my sisters with scissors and a cleaver once in an attempt to scar their faces. Multiple times. Locked us outside during the winter storms. Lied my father where we were while I begged the neighbor cop to house us. Just death through a series of unfortunate events and the slow accumulation of brain damage, starvation, unaddressed infections, all for that sweet sweet life insurance.

Good thing she’s only like 4’10”. Just throwing a heavy pillow at her or using the garden hose on her is usually enough to knock her down before she starts crying and trying to mutilate herself or tearing chunks of hair off her own head leaving bald spots.

Most of her family doesn’t like talking to her. Us included. My father is a pretty lonely guy and will put up with anything because he’s pockmarked and got that syphilis nose. He’d rather deal with crazy than die alone and he’s a hard worker who moved us into the rural countryside so my mom can be “quarantined” for the past 20 years but I often see him crying and talking into the phone almost every evening to his family and friends he hasn’t seen for about 20-30 years.

My grandmother, uncles, and fathers side all avoid her and she hates anything with a living pulse not excluding plants. She mostly spends her days buying anti-aging face creams and spamming the family group chat with Chinese herbal medicine scams but she used to try and drive my father to suicide too by attacking his friends and destroying all the food at home by dumping it on us after she invited us and guests to the dinner table, she would lie about the contents of entire religions and create her own and try to convince us we were deserving of death and she had the right to kill us at any time.

She would pull us out of school if we learned stuff that contradicted her. She would become violently jealous of her own children and destroy our clothing, books and even rip off our hair by the fistfuls from the age of three.

She would tie us to our beds or chairs and force feed us pills for as long as she could before anyone else got home which could be days. She would be held down and berated by entire cadres of aunts, grandmas and even bachelors or strangers who would intervene if she ever forgot anyone else was around and snapped.

So yeah. Mother. Not mom. Not my mum. Mother. That *thing* in the shape of a person that my siblings and I all came from. That thing that makes us rather sleep in our cars, workplace parking lots, public libraries/Gyms and at the police station or learn how to be vagrant rather than go home.

Because it’s not safe. It never was. Safest I ever felt in my childhood was in the crawl space, sleeping with my dog. Hiding from the rest of the world.

Username: GreenMirage

My old roommate was awesome for the first semester we lived together. Although she did do some inappropriate things a couple times I chalked it up to it just being typical college behavior.

A year later I finally realized she was insane when she offered me a dark, slimy tea after I came home from school. I sniffed it and it smelled like HELL so I told her that she could pour it down the drain, I didn't care that she was being "nice"(she had been driving me nuts with her caring lately).

She left it with the utmost care in my room anyways while staring at me with shaky eyes, and with a creepy monotone voice told me she loved me very much and only wished the best for me. I poured the dark slime down the drain after she left and wondered wtf kind of tea looked like that.

I found out later through another roommate that crazy roommie had grabbed EVERY SINGLE pill, syrup, supplement and medicine she found in our common cabinet and put it in the "tea". The kicker is that other roommate also saw her pour half a container of black pepper and another of red pepper into it.

I am very allergic to pepper and she knew this so she purposely made me a very deadly mix to "cure" my cough. Other roommate thought crazy roommie was gonna commit suicide so she questioned her a bit, but crazy roommie called it a "very medicinal" mix for herself.

After that, crazy roommie came around the rest of the day and attempted to open my room constantly to see if I was OK. She acted crazy worried every time she sneaked in, as if she thought I would drop dead any second and acting like she wanted to take care of me because she loved me so very much.

I was naive so it took me a long time to realize she was suffering from severe mental illness and had become very infatuated with me. That day I guess she either wanted to kill me or bring me close to death so she could be my "hero". I was just being nice to her before because she seemed troubled, but she misunderstood it like we were meant to be together.

She did many, many other insane things throughout my stay there that were telltale signs I didn't understand then; I'll mention a few so you can understand. She smoked A LOT of pot, missed school all the time and wasn't chill like most pot smokers.

On the contrary, she would turn hyper and went running, her eyes would shake constantly, talked extremely fast and said bizarre comments which I read on the web as a sign of schizophrenia and mental disorder.

She would pretend to be drunk off one 1 inch of wine and cornered me to tell me how she wanted to eat my pussy, then proceeded to dance "sexy" in her dirty panties and tank top in front of my friends while wearing a green face mask and a towel on her head.

Every day was more unbelievable than the next and her advances kept getting increasingly aggressive. I ended up moving out because the landlord wouldn't kick her out, her parents didn't give a crap, and almost straight up ran out of that place while she would cry in a corner of my room, staring at me with a crazy face and talked quickly on the phone for hours while I packed.

I ended up hiding all the knives and forks of the house a couple days before I left because she kept some sharp utensils in her room and admitted the "little demons in my head sometimes tell me to do things, dirty things, but they like you very very much..." I should have sued that fucking place.

Username: gabypoo

When I was 16, I went to Mexico for a family vacation. This was during a week off from basketball, so my teammates and I all went. As all tourists know, henna tattoos are extremely popular, so my teammates and I decided to get our jersey numbers. My number was 13, and I got it on my neck. I thought I was tough and got a few more. The night finished, and we all headed to bed.

The next evening, I was pulled to the side by a hotel maintenance guy. He was covered in tattoos, about 5'5, and smelled of straight tequila. He looked at me and asked what district I was while pointing to my neck tat. He then lifted up his shirt and revealed his stomach covered in 13 tats. At the time, I didn't realize the presence of MS-13 or who they even were.

He offered my friend and me some drinks, and since you have to be 18 in Mexico, we gladly accepted. The night went on, and he was super cool, asking if we wanted to go smoke. We hopped in his car, and he gave us a tour of the city. While smoking, he pulled up to a shady neighborhood, and instantly my friend and I got worried. He looked me in the eyes and told me to wait a second. He opened the door and walked into what looked like an abandoned shack but was obviously occupied.

He came running out with another person with a bag on their head and screamed at us to hold him down. Instantly, I didn't know what to do but followed directions. As the person stumbled around, he was greeted with the end of a pistol to the back of the head. I had never seen a body go so limp. He tossed the body in the trunk, and we sped off.

My friend and I didn't know what to say. After about two miles of silence, he turned around and said, "It's initiation time, boys," in a hard-to-understand Spanish accent. I began pleading that we were not who he thought we were and needed to go back. This wasn't good; he started calling me a liar and other names. The next thing I knew, we were parking on the beach, and he screamed at us to get out.

My friend and I, thinking he was going to dump our bodies in the ocean, panicked and slowly got out. I turned around to see him with a gun pointed directly at my friend's head. He looked at me and said, "Who are you, and why should I not kill both of you now?" Before I could answer, we heard a loud noise and two headlights flashed upon us. Suddenly, gunshots rang out, and my friend and I hit the ground.

The car had come for the person in the trunk and was unloading bullets on the man we were with. I remember praying to die pain-free, and I'm not religious. All of a sudden, there was silence. I looked over to my friend, who seemed to be in pain. Somehow, a bullet had scraped him, and he was bleeding pretty badly. I looked over to see the man we were with laying in a pool of blood.

I ripped off my shirt, made a tourniquet around my friend's leg, and carried him to the closest road. I didn't know who to trust, but it didn't matter. My friend was bleeding badly, and I needed to get him help. I waved down an old Volkswagen bug, and we were given a ride to the nearest hospital.

Being 16 and not wanting to get into a lot of trouble, we lied to the doctor and said my friend fell while jumping around on rocks by the sea. They called our hotel, and our parents came. They were freaking out and had a hard time believing why we would be hanging out by the sea over 25 miles from our hotel. After hours of complete bullshitting, we finally got our parents to believe us.

The best part of the story is we went on to state that year, and my friend hit the game-winning free throw. I haven't been to Mexico since.

Username: mnsignal13

When I was around 18, a friend of mine went through some kind of depression. Me, him and "our" girlfriend (complicated threesome kind of thing going on) would do shrooms/acid together, like, a lot. In fact, so much, there's a six month hallucinogenic-shaped hole in my life from that period. There's just a few things I remember, this being one of them.

My friend has a car, and comes with the girl to pick me up so we can go have a threesome and do some drugs. They've obviously been arguing, she's really angry when I get in the car, and he's red-eyed and sobbing. I'm like... "Wtf? What's happening?" I get in, and we drive off down the road.

The road is narrow, with parked cars on the left (this is in the UK) and no room for other cars to pass each other. Suddenly he's driving really fast down the hill, and drops his hands from the wheel. The girl in the front seat grabs the wheel, trying to steer, as the guy has his foot planted to the floor.

We're probably doing 50mph now. Halfway down this road, the line of parked cars switches to the other side. So the girl has to swerve the car from the passenger seat. I'm screaming, reaching around, trying to grab his leg and pull it off the accelerator, but I just can't reach.

I'm in the back seat, no seatbelt. The passenger seatbelt was broken, so the girl doesn't have hers on either. There's a slight bend in the road, and I see a car coming toward us. We're doing about 60 now, and there's nowhere for us to go but directly into the car head-on.

I remember jumping behind the girl's seat and reaching forward to grab her shoulders to pull her back, in an effort to brace both her and myself, but it was too late. We hit the car head-on.

Things go in slow motion, and I'm aware of flying through the inside of the car, my back sliding along the inside of the roof, my head hitting and breaking the rear-view mirror off, my back and shoulders sliding down the inside of the windscreen.

My head hit the dash and I could feel it getting really compressed. The girl was flung forward at the same time, and her face mashed into the windscreen, shattering it. The combined force of us both hitting the screen made it pop out.

I had an acute awareness of my body as it folded in half, and I continued out of the window. My legs unfolded and I spun around so that I was laying briefly on the bonnet of the car. The cars in the mean-time had bounced back from each other about 4 feet, and both the girl and I ended up in this space lying on the ground, in a bunch of glass fragments, with steam blowing all over us from the other car's radiator.

The girl was lying non-responsive, so I thought she was dead. I jumped up onto the car and reached in and started punching the guy. He just took it, with this blank look on his face I'll never forget. He just stared into my eyes as I punched him, and that's something I'll never forget. I stopped almost immediately.

Probably only 10 seconds had passed since the collision, and the girl starts moving, so she's clearly not dead. People start arriving, coming out of their houses. An ambulance is called, and the fire service to cut the guy in the other car out of his car.

Turns out, that my friend was depressed, and jealous of the relationship I had with "our" girlfriend, and just wanted to end it all for us all 3. He was charged with "wounding with intent" and was referred to a psychologist and a counsellor, and recieved a few hours community service. The girl had concussion, and had to have a few hundred tiny glass splinters removed from her forehead.

I had some bruises on my head and shoulders, and a cut on the back of my head where it broke the rear-view mirror off, but the worst was the pain in the back of my legs, I guess from where i'd be folded in half and squirted out the window, the muscles in the back of my thighs ached for weeks after.

From that day, I never saw either of them again, or had any contact with them. I heard through mutual friends that they stayed together for a few years.

Username: plankmeister

In 1999, when I was 18 I spent the majority of the year homeless (don't feel bad for me, it was my own fault). One night, I was walking down the street (slowly, I had been awake and walking for about 3 days straight) when a vehicle passed by with a hispanic guy leaning out the window staring at me hard.

I tried to pick up my pace and get to a more populated area quickly, but I just couldn't seem to move. The vehicle circled around and parked, and 2 guys got out and started following me, one short hispanic guy, and another huge white guy dressed like all white boys trying to be "gangsta" dress.

I tried moving faster, and faster, but it felt like one of those dreams where you try to run and it's like you're running under water. They caught up with me before I even made it one block.

Realizing I wouldn't be able to escape (or even fight) in my current condition, I turned to face the men, who started asking who I was, and if I know such and such person. I tell them I have no idea what they're talking about, and try to walk away. They tell me that they were talking about a guy I had loaned $5 to a few weeks back.

I knew who they were talking about at this point, and realized that I actually was the guy they were looking for. Oh fuck. They say that I had been hassling the guy for the $5 back. I asked him once, because I was homeless and unemployed, and he had a full time job. $5 was a lot to me at the time. It was, of course, not worth whatever was about to happen, so I told them forget the debt, I'll let it go. They tell me "naw nigga, now you owe HIM $5!"

"Well, sorry to say, I don't have $5. If you can't tell, I'm homeless." They didn't care. They look me over, up and down, trying to find something they could rob me for. All I had was my high school class ring, which they didn't try to take because they said they "didn't want the bad karma" from it.

They tell me they "just want to talk to me" and that I should follow them into the alley. I don't fucking think so. I start walking away again. The hispanic guy grabs me by my arm, and with his hand buried deep in his pocket, says "come on man, it's cool, we not gonna hurt you". I pull away harder. Then both of them grab me, and try to drag me into the alley.

I was in pain, and exhausted, but I fought back with every ounce of strength I could summon. No fucking way was I getting pulled into that alley. I knew they were going to kill me.

I broke free and started to run as fast as I could, but I didn't make it far. Fortunately I made it as far as the middle of the road, and began to yell for help. I can hear the two men discussing their concern for me alerting the police. As soon as they said that, I could see a police cruiser in the distance, heading my way. "Oh thank you God" I was thinking as I ran toward the cop car, screaming at the top of my lungs, waving my arms, with the two men chasing after me.

What happened next, I couldn't believe. The cop slowed down, almost to a complete stop, and looked me in the eye as I screamed for help. He then hit the gas and drove around me, and kept going down the street like nothing happened. What the fuck.

The next thing the men said to me was "You know what? Fuck this. This ain't about money. This is about skin, motherfucker." The hispanic guy hit me first.

He didn't hit as hard as I thought, and I stayed up through the first flurry of punches. Then the big guy came up behind me and punched me in the back of the head, harder than I had ever been hit before. I went down to the pavement.

The big guy leaned down close to me, and said "If we ever see you again, ever... I will take your fucking life" as more cars were headed our direction. Then, I suppose to drill the point into my head even further, he pulled his arm back and punched me directly in the temple, smashing my head into the asphalt. Somehow, I remained conscious. The two man ran away, and finally a car stopped, and a woman asked if I was okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." I said. I kept walking until I got to the bus terminal, where I fell asleep on a bench for a few hours until security told me to leave. I had a huge knot on the back of my head, but otherwise I was okay. I never saw those guys again, but I suspect if I ever did I might feel a sense of revenge and do something stupid.

Username: DJApoc

I was 12 years old (female) in a small town in the Midwest. My friend Becky and I are walking out of a little store on our main street (3 stop lights total, we are a metropolis lol). Anyway we pass an alley between store fronts and a man in dark blue jeans with a red plaid long sleeved top, dirty white sneekers and a blue bandana tied like a do rag steps out and starts to follow us.

I notice him right away. He is over 6ft with a lean body. Much bigger than our little bodies. I look back and make eye contact breifly. He has such dark eyes, but there is nothing in them just a black wastland devoid of any emotion or resemblence of a soul.

Immediatly the air changes, we are in danger. We...are...the...prey. I lock an arm around my friends and start talking about my father the cop as loud as possible trying to scare him away. (1st mistake)He does not relent and is now gaining ground on us.

I whisper to Becky we have to get somewhere safe quick. She suggests we run to the library one block away through another alley. Two things are certain at this point, we can't outrun him and the old library ladies cannot protect us. My eyes are darting arround franticly trying to find a police car or large man to run to.

The county jail is now only 100 yards infront of us. I wisper to her to run strait into the front doors. There are cops here, we should be safe.p (This wasn't too out of place as it is a small town and has a pop machine in the foyer. Kids walking home after school would drop in and get a drink.) we catch our breath and discuss what to do now.

We can see our pursuer through the glass doors and he can see us. He leans his lanky body against an old cotton tree and lights up a cigarette. He is so calm and makes us wonder if we've been silly little girls and jumped to conclusions.

After a good five minutes he seams disinterested and we feel foolish. So when he's not looking we just walk out of the building.(2nd mistake) He immediately notices but doesn't move yet. I look back a few seconds later and he is sprinting towards us.

I grab her hand and we run through a parking lot using the cars as cover. He is in hot pursuit, but we are small and crawl under a car. He passes right beside us. How he didn't hear my heart beat I'll never know. It drounded out any other sound. He is now muttering angry profanities to himself, panicking looking in cars and opening car doors. When the moment is right we crawl out and RUN.

We didn't look back this time just ran the four blocks to my home. I don't know if he saw us make our escape or if he followed us at that point. We tell my mother who calls my father(the cop). Within minutes police and my dad are at our house. We give our reports and within an hour he is caught. He had a large knife and a handgun.

We learn he wanted to die but not by his own hand. He wanted death by cop. He told the police he heard me mention my father and knew if he killed us he would have his wish. He said we were children and still pure and we would forgive him and take him to heaven with us. (Don't ask me where he got this logic)

The next day I was told he did take his life. He hung himself in the jail with his pants that night. I felt relieved he was dead, and I felt sorrow for his family. He was somebody's son, and somebody's boyfriend, but couldn't quiet the voices in his head.

Username: alifetimeago

“Nah! Va oonah niestam!” (No! I’m not with them!) I shouted to the officer, moments before he shot me in the shoulder. Twice. The bastard... Over the summer, I went to Iran and stayed at my Aunt and Uncle’s house as I roamed all around the country and took in sights I had not seen since the second grade. During this time however, there was quite a bit of political disgust going on for the Persian people, and riots and protests were popping up everywhere.

During one of my many trips to the market down the street from my Uncle’s house, I noticed a glorious sword I had never seen before in one of the window displays. It was a beautiful Shamshir (kind of like a scimitar), one of the best blade weapons ever created in history as far as combat goes.

I knew I had to have it. I walked back to my Uncle’s house and dug through my bags until I found the money I had brought with me to Iran, it was about $500 (around 5,200,000 Iranian Rials). I was so excited about the sword that I did not even notice a large crowd of people forming on the other side of the market.

I went inside and asked the owner about the Shamshir, thinking it would be far outside of my price limit. Luckily for me, the man told me that it was only 2000000 Rials, about 193 U.S. dollars, a very modest price for a sword, especially such a nice one. The man offered to wrap it for me, but I decided that it wouldn’t be worth the extra ten dollars, I had brought an extra duffle bag for my souvenirs anyway.

I walked outside and, while I still did not see the mob, I most certainly heard them. Rushing up behind me and pushing me away from my Uncle’s house and safety, I had become an unwilling protestor of the government (although I do believe that there needs to be some serious reform and restructuring over there).

I was pushed and jostled down the streets for about ten blocks until we reached a much larger marketplace filled with people. At this point, many of the rioters pulled out their signs and tied their green bandanas tighter around their faces.

They soon filled the entire market, as people flooded out through shop doors and other parts of town, there was no way to escape. After about ten or twenty minutes, the Iranian police arrived to “save the day” in their own special way.

They chucked tear gas canisters into the crowd and fired randomly fired bullets into the mob. Unfortunately for me, this did not dissuade the crowd, and the protestors did not back down. Once the police started switching to real bullets, however, this all changed, and people began pouring out of the marketplace as quickly as they could.

It was incredible how fast everyone else got out of there, and even more so that I was one of the last few people still around, the others groaning and writhing in their own blood on the ground. I was still running for the exit, obviously, and still near the back of the crowd.

I knew I would not make it out this way, so I decided to try and run through an alleyway that was much closer to where I came in from. I made a dash for it, but while I did, a younger and less experienced officer shouted at me to stop. I foolishly did, and shout at him “Nah! Va oonah niestam!”, right before he shot me. Twice. The bastard...

Username: Umbjabaya

I have very Christian neighbors btw. I was also 13 years old at the time. So one day, like any normal day, I had to babysit my neighbors (ages 5 & 8) while their parents were mowing lawns.

The whole time I'm there, Sara* (the 8 year old girl) was very quiet. It came time for them to clean their rooms, and I told Sam* (the 5 year old boy) that I would help him clean his room.

Right when I said that, Sara immediately got irritated, saying that it was unfair that I could help her younger brother but not her. I told her that if she could clean her room a little bit, after I'm done cleaning with Sam, that I could help her.

She stormed to get room, and Sam and I shook off her attitude. After we were done cleaning Sam's room, we went to Sara's. When I went to open the door, it was locked. She was screaming, and I immediately went into adrenaline mode. I told her to open the door right now.

Right then, the door opened, all by itself. Sam and I were dumbfounded...she was sitting on her bed. There was absolutely no way she could have unlocked her door and ran to her bed in that as amount of time. San and I walked inside, and we asked why she was screaming. She then said that Satan himself was taking over her body.

I got really worried, and told her that she was fine, but she still had to clean her room because it was her chore, and her parents would be very mad at me if she didn't clean it, she told us that she would try, but we had to leave her alone.

Since Sam and I were done, we decided to make hot cocoa. Sara immediately started screaming and took out a huge knife and held it towards me. It never physically touched my skin, but I swear bricks were shat. Sam started crying hysterically, as did I. This 8 year old girl, who I have grown up with, was threatening me.

Sam and I ran up to their parents room (after I had put every harmful thing out of reach) and locked the door, while I called their parents. Right then, the door opened while she was still coming up the stairs. She got on the bed and started twisting her body. Throwing pillows and clothes everywhere. She took the empty basket that held the clothes and through it at her brother, actually leaving a bruise.

Anywho, I took Sam and ran outside, and that's when she threw a huge metal scooter at me, screaming that she must worship the devil. It left a pretty big gash in my leg. I told her that if she wouldn't settle down that I would call Mark (the police officer that lived by us, he was pretty intimidating) she then settled down immediately.

I had mascara marks down my face from crying...and after SEVEN hours their parents came home. I had shown then all of the videos that I had taken of their insane daughter. They told me that they were sorry and that she was just "testing" me. They then handed me ten dollars and I left. When I went home, I was still crying and shaking. My mom took me back to talk to Sara's mom, and they said that they were very sorry.

Being the "adult" I was I forgave Sara and its like it never happened. Sara is now one of my best friends, and tells me that she honestly doesn't remember a thing, I even consider her and her brother my little siblings, for I am the only child. I do honestly believe that something happened to her that day. I'm glad that no one was seriously hurt though.

Username: ChocoChocoMunch

My junior year of high school, I was in a group with three girls: my best friend, myself, and A. A started dating a boy, L. My best friend couldn't stand him, so she stopped hanging out with us. I really should have followed her lead. Our group then became L, A, and myself. During senior year, L started treating A very badly, putting her down a lot. She already took a lot of anti-depression medication and struggled with an eating disorder, so it was really hard to watch.

One day, I got a bit inebriated and told her in no uncertain terms to leave him. She was my extremely good friend for years, and I thought she'd take that into account. Yeah, no... I had never known an abusive relationship before. She told him everything. From that moment on, destroying me became his #1 priority.

First, he started following me at school, shouting things like "dirty c***" (I hate that word so much). Then he followed me home in her car (he didn't drive; yeah, he made her drive). He even followed me to a job interview, which, needless to say, I didn't get. Then he broke into my house. My parents and I tried to get a restraining order, but the police chief was friends with his dad and told us we had no evidence of harassment.

It kept escalating more and more. He put a key logger on my computer and read all my private messages between my long-distance boyfriend and me, then told him I was cheating on him, which I wasn't! My boyfriend drove the two hours to see me without me knowing why he showed up. It was bad.

This went on for months. Other kids at school started doing things to me too. My former friend A was feeding him info about me, so he knew my buttons and fears. I got blamed for sending a kid to jail because someone told the vice principal he had weed.

It went on for months. I ended up attempting suicide with a lot of pills. It didn't work, and I didn't tell anyone, thank God. My boyfriend knew things were happening, but I didn't tell him everything because I was embarrassed.

One day, L broke into my house while I was out of town (he didn't know I was out of town). Then he broke into my bedroom while I was in it. My parents and I called the cops, but of course, they didn't believe us. The school's principal wouldn't help, but the vice principal started escorting me to and from classes, so at least the yelling at me stopped in the hallways.

One weekend, I was driving and noticed my car was wobbly. I'm a teenager, so I had no idea what was going on, but I kept on driving. For days. My dad noticed while I was coming home. It turned out all of my lug nuts on my driver's side front tire were loosened. It could have been very bad, said our mechanic. Then, less than a week later, it happened again. Obviously, it wasn't an accident.

The mechanic put on locking lug nuts. Then, on the highway going 80 mph, my car filled with smoke and just stopped. I couldn't steer well, and everything was dead. The mechanic thought it might be sugar or a ping pong ball or something, but the engine was toast. RIP first car.

We went to the cops again, and they still refused to do anything. At this point, I wasn't going to school anymore. L had the audacity to actually file a restraining order against me! We got an extremely good lawyer who used to be a cop, one of the best in Cleveland, and he laid into the police chief (whom he used to work with) and basically said that if they wanted to continue harassing me, we had some lawsuits for them.

That finally did the trick. His parents realized their son was an ass, and I haven't seen him since. I heard a while back he was trying to get my phone number to apologize. A still can't understand why I refuse to be friends with her anymore. I'm still afraid to drive alone or be alone, and I religiously check my lug nuts.

Username: foodlovesme

Senior year of high school during spring break. At a house party around midnite after hours of drinking with a couple dozen kids from my school. All I remember before the incident is that we had an epic beeramid that went from the table to the ceiling and incorporated handles of vodka and tons of beer cans. Also, a friend was selling bags out of an ounce. ~$400 street value.

While standing around drinking and shooting the shit 4 guys come in through the back door. 3 in bandanas and 1 in a ski mask holding a gun. 1 of the guys in a bandana is immediately recognized as a junior at our school. They were all juniors at our school. Not too bright.

The guy with the gun immediately approaches my friend to the left of me, knocks the beer out of his hand, puts the gun to his head and tells him to get the fuck down. He turns to me and does the same thing. My friend to the left picks up his beer (he was a heavy alcoholic, even then, and has since died at age 27; RIP Chris). The guy turns back to Chris and knocks the beer out of his hand again and questions his hearing. Him picking up the beer still makes me smile at his persistence.

At this point I turn to my friend to the right, 'Mark' and quietly tell him I don't think it's a real gun. Another friend had a couple hundred dollars on him and tried to walk down the front hallway toward the front door.

As the guy with the gun turns and yells at my friend trying to leave 'Mark' and I jump ski mask guy. Mark wrapped up his torso trying to take him down. I grab the hand with the gun and punch him in the face with my other hand.

As I'm punching him and holding his gun hand, HE UNLOADS THE GUN luckily not hitting anyone. It sounded like a cap gun. I'd only heard a shotgun in person before and this was much quieter. After about 5 or 10 seconds we get him face down on the hardwood floor.

I'm sitting on his back as he struggles and slamming his head into the ground to subdue him. His mask is off and some girls recognize him. They grab a snow shovel and try to hit him in the head with it while screaming his name asking him how he could do this.

We keep them away. After he stopped struggling we let him stand up and stumble out the back door. Only about 90 seconds had elapsed since we first noticed the robbers. We were in shock, I guess, and kinda didn't realize what the hell just happened.

I guess his 3 buddy's ran away immediately and someone at the party examined the gun. It was a .22, very real and the slide was cocked back indicating it was emptied. There were also several small bullet holes in the walls and ceiling. I don't know who called the police, but they arrived within 5 or 10 minutes and a bunch of us had to go to the station to give statements until 6 AM.

He was arrested the next day and eventually was sentenced to 10 years (attempted robbery, armed criminal action) and his buddies got 5 years each as accessories. They were all 17 years old. None of them served their full sentences and AFAIK they are all out. Don't be like drunk 18 year old me. Assume all guns are real and give them what they want because they will try to shoot you if you don't.

Username: NaturalBornHater

In 2002, I started dating a guy 12 years older than me; I was 19. He was emotionally and psychologically abusive. A big part of the relationship was that we were both into the independent film industry in our area. I'm a writer, costumer, and actress, and he thinks he's God's gift to writing, directing, and producing. He has never been able to hold down a steady job for more than two weeks and has an emotionally incestuous relationship with his mother, who he still lives with. Throughout the relationship, his mother saw me as the 'other woman' and treated me accordingly.

In January 2006, he asked me to meet him at the playground of a local middle school. He showed up an hour late and proceeded to spend 45 minutes listing all of my faults as he saw them (including how I was too fat for movies, which was ironic considering he was nearly 400 pounds). He told me he never wanted to see or think of me again. That evening, the "anonymous" SMS messages started, three or four an hour, referencing things only we knew, including "remember, you fit nicely in my trunk." The police couldn't do anything because the messages were sent from an anonymous web server.

He spent three weeks stealing my mail, following my every movement, and writing it down in a journal. I saw his car parked outside my job, a job I hadn't told anyone about. He even called a bomb threat on the job and got me fired. I got a job as the night bookkeeper at a supermarket, and he somehow found out about that too.

One night, I was riding my bike from work to home (the road home goes through a part of San Jose with very few lights). I heard noise behind me and looked back to see a car with no lights on bearing down on me. His car was very distinctive—a rare older model sedan. As I was riding, he pulled far over to the side and sped up, almost hitting my bumper. I faked being hit and flung myself into the bushes off the bike. I stayed curled up in the wet ground for what seemed like hours to make sure he was actually gone, terrified he was going to come and make sure I was dead.

Once I got home, I packed all my stuff and, in the dead of night, got a friend to come get me. My friend drove me 400 miles away, and I spent the next few years being completely off the grid. I've moved on completely; I have a husband and children and, through extensive therapy, have gotten over the night terrors and anxiety.

Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to have gotten over it. It's been seven years, and he still uses me as an excuse for his bad behavior. I found out last year that in January 2010, he accused me (to his friends) of breaking into his house and stealing the belongings of a (former) mutual friend who was staying with him. Unfortunately for him, the night in question that I supposedly slithered through a tiny window, I was on the operating table having a C-section because my uterus reached critical mass seven weeks early (I gave birth to twins, 6 lbs each). I still don't allow my kids anywhere near San Jose because that asshole is batshit crazy.

Username: Phalenmum

Sort of. I've had someone prepare to kill me. As part of a university course I had to do weekly youth work at a church which I would travel a couple of hours to. I would stay there over the weekend at a friend of the church's house. The people who lived in this house were in their late forties/early fifties and were both mentally handicapped in different ways.

Ryan was autistic and suffered from another disease and I can't recall it's name. Mary was married to him and was born deaf, had implants and although she never told me/I was never told, she obviously wasn't quite all there. So, for a few months it was going really well, I started to make a huge amount of progress with the kids who went to the youth group that I was working at.

The previous youth worker had been pushing church on them constantly and ended up driving quite a few of the kids away, whereas I tried to simply give them something other than hanging around in the streets, smoking at the age of 13 and becoming involved with the various drug dealers in the area.

So, after seeing that I wasn't asking the kids to come to church, Mary decided one week to blow her lid at me, telling me I was turning the children evil at the youth group and yelling about me twisting their mind and other garbled nonsense. I didn't particularly care, she was clearly having a bad day anyway so I let her blow off her steam and went back to Manchester to continue working at the university until the next week.

Around a day before I was due back at the youth group I got a phone call from the youth coordinator at the church. He told me that I should take the next week off or so, sine he was having problems with my housing.

I asked him what was going on because I needed to log a certain amount of hours to complete my module and taking time off would make it much harder to evaluate the kids' progress.

So, he spilled the beans. Mary had created a sacrificial alter. When she had been questioned about it during a home visit she told a minister that she had spoken to God and that God had told her that if she killed me it would please him and that she should use all manner of objects to kill me with whilst I was tied with ropes.

She had lined up several heavy things like an iron, a steel meat tenderiser, a decorative brass swan, a cast iron skillet and a whole bunch of other stuff. She also had a big box of sharp implements like kebab skewers, kitchen knives and two sticks she had tried to sharpen.

So, I didn't go back there and was relocated for my course. It really got me down that I wasn't going to be working with that youth group any more however when there's an "Angel of God" trying to bludgeon and impale me to death in a ritual then I was happy to move.

I was also told that it was completely a chance visit that had brought her behaviour to attention and that I was seriously lucky. I was 20 years old and I'm not physically imposing but I can definitely take care of myself, but if I had walked into that house not suspecting something and been surprised with a skillet to the face then anything could have happened.

Username: stayshiny

So my house used to be the main farmhouse way before my family moved in. Along with my house, we also had a Chicken Coop, but not like a little chicken coop. This thing was 4 stories and each floor was the size of half a basketball court. The summer before my sophomore year we(being myself, and my brother, and our friends) revamped the first floor so it was a cool hang out place, with a N64, DvD player, just a place to be as teenagers.

So onto the good part. My mom and her boyfriend went away for the weekend camping. I stayed home along with my brother. My brother and two of his friends, we'll call them K and M. They decided that the first weekend my mom left they were going to drop acid at home. They've done it before with mixed results, but always at parties, never at home.

I was woken up at 5 AM after only sleeping for about two hours. My brother and M were freaking out, not tripping but scared. They said that K was freaking out, breaking glass and swinging a crowbar, but they ran out through the back.

I was unaware of what was happening, but I had to call my mom and 911 saying he was drunk or just freaking out for a reason unknown. My bedroom window overlooks the Chicken Coop so I talked to 911 and told them what was going on. He was pretty much just walking in and out, looking for my brother and M and watching the movie they had on.

He disappears into the building for a solid 30 seconds and then smoke starts to come out of the front door. He set the whole thing on fire. The chicken coop is also less then 30 feet away from my house and two garages owned by my neighbors. It's still on fire and he's walking in and out, throwing shit(like my brother's guitars) towards the house.

At this point police, ambulance, fire trucks, and my mom are all on their way to my house. K then walks into my house. We are all scared to death because he was swinging a crowbar and set a building on fire. We ran across my hallway and hid in the bathroom until he went back outside.

They only thing he said whenever he came inside was "Hey guys, someone lit the Chicken Coop on fire". My upstairs bathroom is nearest to the street so I saw my neighbor and I yelled at him to get away because K was crazy. He said "What the fuck are you kids doing? The fucking building is on fucking fire!"

My other neighbor pulled a gun on the kid and got him down on the ground. The police, EMT, and fire stations eventually came, along with my mom later. My mom discovered that K had turned all the gas to the gas stove filling up the house.

Weirdest part, I'm still friends with the kid, he was never pressed charges because I couldn't actually see him light it on fire, I just knew it. This was a year and half after he graduated from high school, and when I was in my Junior year.

Username: Daithe

Other than at work (police officer) someone has only tried to (maybe?) kill me once. =I was in the UK visiting a friend (I'm Irish). We would've been about 15. He lived in a little town that had a McDonald's on the outskirts on a roundabout. To get to this McDonald's you either go down an extremely busy and dangerous main road, or down a nice quiet country road. We chose the country route.

It's summer and about 5 o clock. The sky is a nice orange colour and it is pretty warm. We're both looking forward to a McDonald's. Were just walking along by the side of the road talking, when this car pulls up behind us. It's like a really old beat up ford escort I think. It's blue.

Inside it is some guy who looks really weird. There was nothing specific about him that I can pinpoint, but the guy just looks dodgy. He is bald, has sunken in eyes, scars on his face, and is wearing a black jumpsuit. He beeps the horn and pulls up next to us.

He rolls down the window, 'You lads are off to McDonald's aren't you. Get in my car. I'll take you there for free.' Me and my buddy aren't stupid so we obviously decline. He stares at us, then opens his driver side door. He picks up a huge metal wrench from behind the seat. My buddy quickly says, 'We don't need a lift because my dad will be here any second to pick us up.'

Just as he says this, a landrover comes round the corner on to the road. 'Here he is now.' The creepy guy totally bought it. He looked at us, then at the approaching landrover, then back at us, then grunted angrily and drove off.

Truth is, we had no idea who was in the landrover, we just lied that it was my friends dad. Incase the creepy guy was still looking, we stopped the landrover and then had to explain to the driver why we had just stopped her.

Anyway, it then dawned on us that we could easily have been killed or abducted. I was a boxer and a black belt in karate, and my friend was a Brazilian Jiu jitsu black belt thing, so we would've fought for our lives.

Anyway, we run like hell to McDonald's. I don't buy anything in the end, but my friend gets chips. Then, we decide to walk back up to town. We go the main road way. On the way back up, we are about half way there when a white van full of men comes driving the other way and starts beeping it's horn at us.

I look inside and I swear I can see the creepy guy in the middle seat, surrounded by two others. They start making gestures at us, like blowjob gestures and then pointing at us and them. We run like hell back to my buddies grandads house which is nearer than his.

We get there and his grandad gives us orange juice. All is good. No, but seriously, we called the police and told them. We got interviewed. The police said they think they know who the guy is.

Anyway, time passes, then one day the creepy guy goes into the shop my friend works at. He told me the creepy guy just stared at him, dropped the shopping he had, then left. Haven't seen him since.

Username: SeamusTheGreat

My dad was caught cheating on my mom when I was 17 (2 years ago). When I got news of this I started immensely hating my dad. He moved out to live with his new family (typical Korean money guzzling whorebag and her 2 little shitnuggets) after a month of divorce filing.

However, my mom thought it would be best for me to accept him and try to keep in touch with him. So I decided to stay at his house for a weekend and get to know the new family. After dinner, I decided to sit on the couch and watch some TV.

Then came the 2 shit bags (9 and 12 year old boys) and they demanded my debit card(which I have used earlier at McD) so they can buy some in-game money for Maplestory. I said no and they proceed to look for their whore mother. She walked into the living room and demanded me for my hard earned money. I told her to fuck off and my dad storms in and starts beating me.

Before this, he had never laid hands on me other than for disciplinary smacks that Korean parents tend to do. I was very dazzled by this when he started choking me with his hands and shaking me back and forth. This was when my adrenaline kicked in and my foot sprang forward into his crotch.

As he was trying to get up while spitting and cussing, I instinctively knew he was certainly going to kill me. So I reached for the closest object (clothing iron) and threw it at his head. After he hit the ground I ran out and called the police. I still remember hiding in a bush and frantically looking around to see if my dad's coming to kill me.

The police arrived shortly after my call and when they saw me they tackled me down. Apparently whore bag called the cops saying I knocked my dad out cold and ran from the house. After the cops saw that I had a huge bruise around my neck they brought me to the hospital and called my mom. She broke down immediately when she saw me.

I haven't talked to my dad after that (for very obvious reasons) but he has tried to break into my house several times. This happened because whorebag divorced with him and started taking child support which destroyed him financially.

He had been begging my mom to move back and when she filed a restraining order against him, he went batshit crazy and decided to break into the house to kill me and my mom. The cops got here before he could get in the house and he's been in state pen for a while now.

Since then my mom and I got our citizenships (hooray) and we invested in a firearms license and a 22 luger rifle. Im praying that we will never have to take that thing out, but I overheard my mom talking on her phone about how he's going to be out on parole very soon.

I'm 19 now and still living with my mom. The threat is still out there and im still very concerned. The shit thats happened over the last 2 years still make me dizzy thinking about it and I now keep a knife under my pillow when I sleep. We are now one of the very few Korean families that own a gun.

Username: artmajortrash

An unknown man tried multiple times to abduct me as a child, always breaking in when I should’ve been home, but wasn’t (would stay after school for practice, would be at a friend’s house, etc). He never took a single thing.

Finally he did it one night in the summer. I was on the swing in my back yard, and my parents poked their head out on the deck saying “we’re leaving to see a movie, we’ll be back in ~2 hours”. My back was to the woods, so he was likely behind me and heard this. I walked inside and forgot to lock the door. It was the only unlocked door out of 7 total doors, and the man came through that one about 10 mins after my parents left.

I had headphones on playing Xbox, so if it hadn’t been for my cat who was on my leg freaking out, I wouldn’t have gotten up to check. Turns out the door had been slammed open. Nobody was in sight, so I assumed the wind blew it open, but my gut said run. I felt like someone was hiding behind the door just outside.

I was in a room with only 1 entry point, so I bolted upstairs, outside, across the street, and hid on the side of my neighbors house. I watched the house, as we had a clear front door, and sure enough, 10 seconds later I see a tall skinny guy walk upstairs and pass by the clear front door. He walked down both ends of the hall and was there for 5 mins in each end

I’d already called the cops and my parents, who were speeding back home. My dad got our neighbor on the phone and explained the situation, and my neighbor ran over to my house with a gun in hand. He still thought I was in the house hiding/being abducted. As my neighbor was entering the front yard, I saw the abductor peaking through some blinds, where he saw my neighbor. He ran back by the clear front door, downstairs, and outside.

Cops came with dogs, the dogs caught a scent, but lost it somewhere in the woods. It was terrifying showing the cops around my house and different spots he could be hiding, for them to point their gun out and kick their way into.

Later that night, a neighbor sent a neighborhood email saying he saw a deranged looking man running through the woods, out towards a neighborhood nearby that was very known for cooking meth and other crimes.

Never saw him again, he never got caught, but we finally put 2 and 2 together and realized he had been going for me. Multiple break ins with nothing ever taken, or so much as touched? Breaks in almost as soon as my parents announce I’m going to be home alone and leave? Me seeing him go through both ends of the hall looking for me?

The fact he had gone immediately upstairs after presumably seeing me run up them? He wasn’t there for money or objects. The first time he broke in, he went through a window, and there was $500 cash and a brand new $2000 camera on the desk next to the window. He didn’t take it, or anything else.

Username: qdolobp

June 16, 2007. It was a Saturday night and I'd been staying at my grandmother's house since my dad was away for the weekend. I was a month away from being 15, so I could've stayed home alone, but my grandmother was getting old and I kept her company. Since she lived only a few minutes away from my house, I'd ride my bike back to my house so I could feed my cat before it got too late.

So I get home at 8:30 to feed my cat, and I realise my dad has left these fliers on the kitchen counter that he wanted me to deliver. Since my dad is a major asshole, I figure better get to it since I don't know when he'll be home and if he comes home before I get home the next day, he'll get pretty angry with me.

So I start down my street to deliver them. I only have to deliver them on my street, which is a few hundred metre or so. As I get towards the end of my street, towards a main road that has a McDonald's right on the corner, a group of 6 guys turn the corner from the McDonald's and see me.

They yell out "let's mob this cunt" (Australian for "let's gather around this fellow, friends!"). I turn to walk away quickly, but they start to run. One punches me real hard in the back of the head, trying to knock me down, but I don't go down. As I turn to look at the one who got me, more of them gather around me and I notice one is pointing a gun at my head.

At this point, I realise I've never seen a gun in real life, so I hesitate for a split second and wonder if it's real or not. Luckily, I'm smart enough to realise that I don't want to find out the hard way. So I stop and they say to me "What you got?" I tell the leader I don't have anything on me (which was true really, my wallet had nothing in it at all), and they believed me since my shirt was just long enough to cover my pockets and it looked as though I had nothing.

He asks me again since he's angry, though I just tell him I have the fliers that I was delivering. This really pisses them off, so they start to get angry and I hear the gun cock. (I still don't know guns too well, so I assume it was the gun - it made the sound of a revolver, I think) The guy raises the gun before I hear the leader tell me to fuck off and leave.

I start walking away as they do as well, but then I hear the short fat one yell out "Man, let's just fucking shoot him." I hear him struggle with the guy who has the gun, so I use this opportunity to run away down my street, weaving between trees as to impede his vision and to protect me.

Eventually I reach the end of the street, I keep running until I reach the next block and then I hid behind a bush for 20 minutes. I gingerly snuck home, trying to make sure they weren't looking for me. I got inside, cried a bit since I was so scared, fed my cat, and then rode my bike home.

Now this is the part which proves to be the kicker. It sounds made up to make this story sound like more of a joke, but I swear on my life that it's true. The next day I went home and I saw my dad in the kitchen. The first thing he says to me is about the stuff I was delivering that night. He says "Oh hey, thanks for delivering the Neighbourhood Watch newsletters last night."

Username: aidyfarman

Yep, neonazis. Was passing through a dark alley in Athens at three after midnight on a Saturday. I see a woman on her knees, apparently unconscious, and two skinheads who were undressing her while keeping her from collapsing completely.

Without realizing how dangerous it could get, I yelled "HEY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING". They turned their heads, see me on my lonesome, ignore me, continue undressing her. They finally removed her shirt when I yelled "LEAVE NOW I'M CALLING THE POLICE".

I see them exchanging a word or two, they both automatically leave the woman who falls on her face, and start approaching me. "So you think you're brave you fucking leftie with your fucking cellphone?" One brandishes a knife, the other puts on something metallic on his right fist, I assume a knuckle duster.

I turn the other way and run out the corner to my right. I hear them running after me, fifty feet away. I don't run for long, because I trip right after the corner on some abandoned scaffolding. I wish I could say I weighed my situation carefully, judged that my fat ass wouldn't be able to run for too long, and consciously decided to make a stand.

All i really remember is turn around, run away for ten feet, turn to the corner on my right, after a step or two trip on scaffolding, see a rusty metal pipe about two feet long and as thick as a tennis ball, grab it, and turn back to the corner. Hear them approaching, and without waiting to see them, swing the rusty pipe like a baseball bat towards the empty space in front of me.

See a skinhead arrive where the pipe was going, pipe connects with his chest, he collapses with an audible "HSSSHHHH", all the air leaving his chest, and a blade leaving his hand. The other guy was on his eight o clock, stumbles on his collapsing buddy for a split second, doesn't realize he was attacked, and continues to run thinking his buddy slipped or something.

He passes me by completely, stops a few feet away when he realizes what happened, I stomp the collapsed neonazi on his balls by that time, take my trusty rusty pipe and land it on the other asshole's shoulder.

He yells a loud "AAAAAAHHH!", turns in pain with his knuckle duster, tries to take a swing at me but can't really lift his arm because of the shoulder pommel, I hit his right arm again with all my strength, he starts caving in, I hit his other shoulder like an axe chop and literally bend the pipe on it, he yells in pain, I hit his left arm, then kick his left shin, then grab him and throw him towards his buddy.

They fumble into a mess, I approach them and try to kick one of them but just land my foot on a shoe, realize what I had just done and run away, taking as many turns between buildings as I can. I abandon the pipe after the second corner.

I see a taxi, stop it and tell the driver to take me home. That SS on the one guy's neck haunts me to this day. I hope the girl woke up and ran away during the fight. I'll never know.

Username: JesusDeSaad

I used to work at a high class restaurant in my home town. My boss (the headchef) was always a bit odd, he worked long hours and just had short bursts of sleep in his office. It didn't help that his parents (he was in his 30s) were constantly coming around for free food, and free booze.

No matter what the occasion they were there, even if we were hosting a wedding or something. He ended up dating (More along the lines of sexually abusing/harrassing) one of the waitresses, who was my age (19 at the time) she claimed she was only doing it so she wouldn't get fired, pretty sad.

One night all of the waiters: Me, the girl, and a gay guy went out for drinks. I went home pretty early but the gay guy and her went back to his house, she was from another town, about 30 mins away and was just going to stay there. I have no idea how this happened but they had sex haha.

The next day they were telling me about how they banged at work and how funny it is, what with him being gay and all. And I asked if they used protection, and they couldn't remember. So the rest of the day there was a lot of talk between us about them banging.

The head chef (boss) had installed tiny cameras and microphones all around the restaurant to listen in on a our conversations. Something must of caught his ear that waitress had had sex with one of us.

He pulled me outside and asked what happened, he seemed pretty upset so I figured I'd tell him. I didn't want to be like "oh its not my place to say" cause i needed this job and I didn't think he thought their relationship was serious anyway.

Well anyway, he must of run this few his mind a few times and couldn't figure out how a GAY guy fucked his GF. So he assumed I was lying, and it was me that fucked her.

He made me stay back one night to clean up, and then he called me into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of knives. Which is so odd, like he had like 7 steak knives in his hand and he ran at me. I laughed it off thinking he was kidding and grabbed his arm and held him back, laughing the whole time.

I looked in his eyes and he was smiling but with tears in his eyes. I then figured out this wasn't a joke and pushed him back and ran out of the kitchen. "oi mikeradical, can you come back for a second" I just legged it outside and onto the street and drove home.

I was 19 at the time and didn't think anything of it for some reason. Like I never told my parents or the police or anything. It wasn't until a few months later I saw one of the old dish boys in town he was talking about how he "missed me at work, and that I should have fucked the bosses girlfriend" and i was like "whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat, ohhhhhhhhhhh"

Username: MikeRadical

Yup sister tried to kill me and my parents. Grab some popcorn, story time. About 10 years ago ( I was 18-ish at the time) she was 14 dating this guy that was 18. My parents didn't approve, didn't want him in the house, never liked him, you get it. Well the two of them thought of a brilliant plan where if they killed my whole family, they could live happily ever after.

It all happened in one evening, I was at work and my mom walked past her room and heard her giving him the security codes to our garage and the alarm. She got worried and her and my dad decided to call the police to just write a report in case anything happened.

I came home from work, they filled me in (sister still in room) and we all went to sleep. I awoke around 3am to a ton of people talking and I opened my bedroom door to see a dozen State Police officers in my kitchen and my sister sitting on the stairs, parents crying.

I don't know if there's a big man upstairs, but if there is he was watching over us that night because this chain of events was short of miraculous. Her boyfriend recruited a friend of his to help out. On the way to our house his car broke down so they decided to push it to the side of the road and walk the rest of the way. I guess they were wearing all black (of course).

The local police got a call from an anonymous driver reporting two kids in all black walking down the road, and suggested sending a car out there since it was dangerous for other drivers and the kids. They sent an officer out there and picked them up and ran their names for protocol and lo and behold, boyfriend's name pops up because my dad just reported him.

Here is the insane part: When the officer asked the kids where they were going, the boyfriend actually responded with, "We're going to [hugyousohards sister's] house to kill her parents and her sister." RED FLAG. Officer immediately takes them to the station, calls state police (we lived in an unincorporated town) to report that they caught them up to no good.

This was the plan: get into the house with the codes, go into our rooms one by one, muffle our mouths and stab us until we died. Sister would then freak out and call my uncle and report that when she woke up the next morning everyone was killed except her. Uncle would take her into custody and she would live happily ever after with the boyfriend.

All 3 involved got arrested and charged, we all had to go to therapy, it was a horribly long couple of years. I grew up to be a psychotherapist that specializes in teenagers :) Family is still struggling at times but we've all tried our best to move on. My sister is Borderline, so she's on a slew of meds now and has been in therapy on and off for 10 years.

Username: HugYouSoHard

I was about 17 and leaving a shopping center parking lot when I came to an intersection. I assumed, incorrectly, that it was a 4-way stop. But, the traffic coming across my lane did not have a stop sign. I started driving through the intersection and noticed the car coming towards me wasn't slowing down. Simultaneously we both hit the brakes, honked and waved our arms like "Wtf is your problem?!" but then I realized I was in the wrong.

So I waved my arm like "oh, right, my bad. Go ahead. " The guy starts slowly creeping through the intersection in front of my car, all the while intensely glaring at me. I was like oh come on, you and I both know I made a mistake, I'll admit it, let's move on... And he just kept glaring and moving forward at like 2 mph. So I flipped him the bird and brake-checked to make like I wanted to move forward. At that point he SLAMMED on his brakes and came to a stop in the middle of the intersection.

The woman in the SUV behind him was not prepared for this, and she rammed his rear end like a demolition derby car. The lady looked even more pissed off at this guy's stupidity for slamming on his brakes like that for no reason.

So right now I'm thinking fuuuhuhhhuuhhuuuuuck, what do I do what do I do... And I decide I should bolt. I begin to make my way around the accident scene in the oncoming lane, when I see the guy getting out of his car and looking at his crumpled back bumper.

I couldn't resist. I stopped my car, rolled down the window, and shouted "that's what you get for being an asshole!" and floored it. I barely heard him say "YOU MOTHERFU--" before the tires screeched and I took the fuck off. But when I looked in the mirror I saw that the guy was reaching into his car for something....

I was doing about 30 now... Then I saw him step out of the car and walk towards the direction I was driving away in....

Doing about 40 now..... And I can just make out the movement of his arm in the rear view mirror.. This fucker was pointing a gun at me! My only instinctual reaction was to duck... I ducked and looked at the road through the space in the steering wheel... I ventured a peek at the mirror again and saw him with his back to me holding a gun at his side.

I then realized the reason I was having trouble focusing on the image in the mirror was because it was getting further away and it was getting more and more bouncy because I was now going 75mph on a city street.

Guy almost tried to shoot me because I gave him the finger and called him an asshole. Idk if I'd have shot me, but I definitely would've given me a good ass kicking to teach me a lesson.

Username: outie

One time, a buddy of mine called me and mentioned how one of my old friends, someone I was cool with at the time, was talking about having this silver knife and wanting to stab me with it. He even showed my buddy the knife and was punching the skate park ramp, yelling my name with anger. I was really thrown off by this. About six months later, I returned home and mentioned to my friend how I never wanted to be around this guy anymore. He denied ever saying anything about the knife and warned me not to go around spreading such claims.

I already told the guy I heard about the knife, and he denied it all the time. With my friend denying it too, I thought maybe it was just a joke or something. So, I decided to put it behind me and remained cool with the guy who supposedly wanted to stab me. This guy had some mental issues from eating an excessive amount of strong acid and other substances. We all felt bad for him, so I decided to move past what I heard.

One night, we were all upstairs having a good time. Next thing I know, he pulls out this silver knife and stares at me like he's going to do something. I was like, "UGHHHH, I gotta go grab something," and he gets up to follow me. I left without my shoes on, and my buddy kicked him out of his house after calling them to pick me up. Everyone told me to chill out and said he would never hurt anyone.

Fast forward, and this guy seemed down on his luck but then digressed to wearing animal bone necklaces, smoking tree sap mixed with pinecones and spices, not taking care of his hygiene, and ultimately becoming the state's problem. He ended up on disability, receiving about $1200 a month but still begged for money and spent it all on delta-8 because weed isn't legal here.

One time, while tripping on acid, I punched him in the face. He popped out from a corner making some weird noise, and I didn't really decide to hit him; it was like a flight-or-fight reaction. I decked him pretty hard, and he had a black eye that was swollen badly.

Immediately after, he didn't freak out and just rode the trip fine. He was completely fine afterward, and we'd all hang out. I apologized, smoked him out, invited him out with our group of friends, and let him come to my ex-girlfriend's house to have MKX tournaments.

It wasn't until his mental health declined over two years later that he started to hate me and claimed I ruined his life. Now, he constantly talks about aliens and UFOs, claiming he's an alien test subject.

Username: PineEvergreen

When I was around 12yo, my younger brother kept nagging me to take him to the pool near our house. I didn't want to go, but I decided I'd be a "good brother" and take him to the pool. Neither of us had phones back then, so our dad gave us walkie talkies to keep in touch with him. He also suggested we ride our bikes to the pool since it was such a nice day out. Fast forward 10 minutes later and we're almost at the pool.

Unfortunately, the path to the pool goes through a thinly wooded forest and my brother thought he spotted a friend who lived on our block. Before I can stop him, he's pedaling towards the kids and I ( me being myopic as hell) can neither confirm nor deny if its our friend.

As it turns out, my brother and I don't know any of the kids. I've always been nervous around people I don't know so naturally I'm freaking out right about now. Most of the kids were around 14, with the exception the two "leaders" of the group who appear to be around 18yo.

The kids ask us to play hide and seek with them and my brother is immediately on board. I, being more skeptical, momentarily leave my brother with the kids in an attempt to get a better signal on the walkie talkie so I can update my father.

Two minutes after I leave, my brother comes running at me shouting "They spit on me!" I turn to look back at the kids and one of the younger ones chucks an empty thermos at us. On that note, I yell at my brother to start pedaling and the kids immediately begin chasing us.

The older two yell at us to get off our bikes and I see him pull something out his jacket. My brothers look of panic let's me know that it's a gun and we begin to pedal faster. I remember yelling at two ladies walking down the path parallel to us for help, but they just ignored me and kept walking.

Eventually, a lady coming home from the nearby track sees my brother and I running and stops to call for help. The kids must have seen her helping us and decided to back off, I use the time I have to contact my dad on the walkie talkie.

Roughly 5 minutes pass by and I see my father flying down the street in his black acura. He drives ONTO the forest path (meaning he drove up onto the sidewalk and then onto the path) and seems hell-bent on running over our aggressors who have now returned back to the park.

The kids run out of the woods and onto the streets and my father followed the two oldest back to their homes where he subsequently called the police. The police never found the gun and I have never seen those kids since.

Username: MysterySeaMen

On January 1, 2020, around 2:15 am, I was walking home from the gas station where I worked. I heard tires spinning but didn't care to turn around, being used to people doing stupid things in the big city. I turned around when I saw the lights getting oddly close from behind and a white, new Chevy truck stopped. The truck had a Mexico flag across the hood, and two men jumped out of the back, grabbing me by my ankles and feet. They threw me into the backseat of the truck and sped off.

I had always thought I would fight back in a situation like this, or run away, maybe jump out the window. But I didn't. I just went into a weird mindset where everything was in slow motion. My hearing felt muffled and quiet, and I just stared ahead, wondering if I would actually die like this. What did they want? Why me?

They took everything I had: my phone, money, backpack, sweatshirt, and shoes. It was the middle of winter, freezing outside, with snow on the ground. They pulled behind an old grocery store and parked next to a half circle of dumpsters. We had only driven a couple of miles away from where I had been walking.

They were all talking in Spanish, and the guy on my left was touching me inappropriately and kissing my neck while the guy on my right and in the passenger seat were asking me questions. They asked my name and why I would walk alone at night. It seemed like they were asking questions just for amusement between each other.

He laughed when I asked what they were going to do. The driver never said a word; he just kept looking at me in the rearview mirror. The man who had been touching me grabbed the back of my head and started kissing my neck. As he did, I spit in his face and told him to burn in hell.

He laughed, opened the door, and shoved me out. The men in the back seat followed me out and started beating me. I screamed as loud as I could, and that must have scared them because they tore off my socks, as if taking my shoes wasn't enough. Then one of them held a gun to my head.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, and I prayed and closed my eyes. He just laughed, called me a "stupid white bitch," and they drove off. I sprinted home barefoot, without any of my belongings. My sister, who was my roommate at the time, took me to the police station to file a report, but nothing ever came of it.

I hate saying it out loud, but I am genuinely afraid of Hispanic men now. I moved away in fear they’d see me again. I don’t go out at night or alone. I have "Find My iPhone" connected to my iPad at home, always. My best friend, mom, and siblings all have my location 24/7. I will never forget the face of the man who was sitting on my left. His eyes were evil.

Username: brianna_lynn0

About four years ago, on halloween, my wife and i were leaving the City Museum in St. Louis with two friends. Anybody who's been knows that it's right downtown, and is in what a real estate agent might call a "transitional" neighborhood. That night we stayed pretty late, till about 1am, and got jumped by some armed robbers on our way home.

We were pretty much the last people to leave the Museum, and had enjoyed a few drinks at the bar, so we were pretty loud and boisterous on our way back to the car, which was about a block and a half away. As soon as we crossed the street, we heard someone say, "Don't turn around."

At this point, I was walking ahead of everyone else by about 5 yards and getting pretty close to my car. And since I'm a complete asshole - and an asshole who EDCs a 4" spring assisted blade - I turned around.

There they were: two guys, one standing by my three friends and holding a pistol in his hand, the other standing right behind me with a Beretta M9 pointed right at my forehead. The asshole closest to me pressed the barrel of his gun against my temple and said, "Don't look at me." I squared my shoulders and glared straight into his eyes, then told him he had a nice tattoo on his neck.

So, let me be clear - **do not be like me**. A lot of things were going through my head. Fear wasn't one of them. My hands didn't shake. My heart didn't race. I wasn't thinking about protecting myself, only about distracting the guys from potentially harming my wife and friends and making the robbery take as long as possible.

Anyhow, now that I had his attention he whipped me against my temple *hard*, then ordered his friend over to help him 'take care of me'. They told me to get on my knees and put my head on the curb. With a gun to my head they told me to empty my pockets.

The first thing i did was take my car keys and toss them as far as I could down the street, which earned me a swift kick in the ribs. I tossed out the rest of my pocket contents (wallet, cellphone, and EDC knife).

By this point the whole thing had taken about 3-4 minutes, which I think was longer than they wanted. They went back to my friends and yelled for their wallets and cellphones, which they got, then ran away. In their hurry they didn't take any watches, jewelry, wedding rings, etc. We ran back to the museum and found a security guard. When the cops arrived they took turns (along with my wife) giving me crap for almost getting myself killed.

Username: [deleted]

I worked in crisis group homes for youths. I had one kid who was a total string bean with terrifying strength for his size. In an altercation, he was absolutely the equivalent of a greased up naked guy as well.

He targeted female staff a lot. Both violently and sexually, and generally I intervened as none of the women were strong enough to overpower him. This did not put me high on his friend list.

The group home sucked, and the boy's bed was made of wood. He spent what we think were days at night sharpening a wooden shiv about an inch wide and just shy of a foot long by breaking it off one of his bed slats and sharpening it with the side of his bed. We had an awake overnight team but awake overnighters are notorious for their apathy, and either heard nothing or didn't care.

The guy called me in one day for an issue with something in his closet. I looked and said I saw nothing, fully turning toward him to say it. It was then he revealed his tool and screamed "die bitch" and plunged it as hard as he could into my left shoulder. Im convinced his goal was my heart.

He impaled me all right, and I was bleeding, but he didn't succeed in crippling me or even (with all the adrenaline) breaking my range of motion in my left arm so I proceeded to try to wrestle him into a hold and call staff for assistance.

At this point he could tell his plan failed and he went for a hail Mary bite on my right collarbone as I tried to pin his legs and arms solo. He bit me so hard he bruised my collarbone and broke off one of his front teeth.

The woman I was working with saw that and, rather than help me with the hold, panicked and called 911 before proceeding to have a panic attack at all the blood. They took about 7 minutes to get there, and I kept restraining him while bleeding profusely in two places. I was then taken to a hospital ER, but not by ambulance. My manager drove in and took me. So sketch..

I had stitches in both shoulders, but its been years and I dont think I have any lasting issues from it. I'd like to say this was my only story like this, but I have dozens.

I wanted to quit for seven years, but I had two kids at 20 and 22 and needed to provide for them, and it was essential to me they be raised by their mother and I in their formative years, and it was the best wage I could find while pursuing my bachelors in computer science, so I took the beatings for about seven and a half years before finally graduating....the year covid hit and reset the whole economy. Life has been a wild ride ha.

Username: KritzkriegIIC

I remember SLIGHTLY. I was 1 month, 3 months, 7 months, and 5 years old. I only remember the time I was 5 years old. But that wasn't as exciting as when I was one month old(this is being told from my moms POV, because of course I Dont remember) so when I say "I" I mean my mom.

I was holding Trh and rocking in a rocking chair, listening to jazz music in his nursery. My daughter,Kathy has brain tumors(they are not terminal) kathy walks in and asks if she can go to Kim's house(her old group homes "mom") I say no, so she starts screaming and yelling telling me that she hates me.

When I tell her to get out, trh starts crying and screaming. Kathy walks to me, yanks trh out of my arms and throws him under his crib(when I say throw, I mean, he tumbles in the air, gets air time and slides when he hits the ground.

Yes. That bad) I start crying, stand and raise my fist and tell her to "Get the fuck out of this room" I get Tristen, check to make sure he is okay and holy shit, he is okay. I put him in his crib and go get my phone to call my husband. I tell my husband "if you Dont get home right now, I may kill Kathy."

When I get back to the nursery, there she is, Kathy. She's holding a pillow over my sons face! I grab her by the shoulders and throw her against the wall and tell her to get the fuck out...again. She leaves. But this time, she comes back with a kitchen knife.

Threatens to kill both me and my son. My other son (7 at the time, jerry) decides to throw his teddy bear at my daughter, she turns. I take that moment to tackle my own daughter to the ground, I lose control and hold the knife to her neck.

I sit there for a minute, I come to my senses and just as I get up, my husband runs through the door, pushes me off of Kathy, and pulls Kathy away and calls Kathy's doctor. This is basically it. If you want to hear a more complete story, just ask.

PS. we all love my sister. Its not her fault she has these HORRIBLE behavior issues, its because of the tumors in her brain. Even though she has called CPS on my mom and told them lies like how she touches us all sexually, or beats us, we really do love here.

But unfortunately, she needs to live in a group home where she is constantly watched. She is 28 right now, and still lives in a group home:'( I hope she can eventually get this all repaired)

Username: th1341

I had I high school friend try to run me over in his jeep. We had been really close friends for many years. Our group of guys (all friends from about 12 to 15) had started hanging out with an older guy who would have us over to his garage (he was a mechanic), let us hang out, drink beer, smoke pot, goof off, and learn about cars.

As an entirely side issue that never came up in any meaningful, creepy, or even slightly uncomfortable way, he was gay. I was really open with my parents, and didn't really keep anything from them. In a conversation I let them know what we were up to because my folks were worried that we might be getting into trouble in an unsafe environment. They believed that it was maybe not a great thing for us to be doing, and encouraged caution, but I think they were satisfied that we weren't in any real danger.

For some reason, my mother shared this information with the mother of this friend. This very homophobic, slightly less clued-in-to-her-son's life. His mother flipped out, forbade him from going to this mechanic's shop, and probably grounded him for some time. To make matters worse, she filed a lawsuit against this mechanic for "contributing to our delinquency."

A restraining order was issued, I was rejected by this friend group entirely (I didn't understand why, at the time), and was informed of this rejection by a jeep barrelling down the road at me, late in the evening, as I'm out walking around my neighborhood.

I'm glad I had the situational awareness to recognize that the headlights were coming up a little too fast, and a little too head-on. I'm also glad I lived in a heavily-forested neighborhood, and could stay off the streets as he drove back and forth looking for me for the next 20 minutes.

I still don't know why he was so pissed. My parents suspect there was a deeper relationship between this friend and this mechanic than any of us knew. I don't know that I believe this theory, and I certainly never got any indication that the mechanic was attempting to pursue a romantic relationship with any of us boys.
But what do I know, I was 15 or 16 years old. You're pretty clueless at that age.

I never heard from him again. I made up with pretty much all the other guys in that group years later. I think they understood my choice to be honest, and my openness with my parents eventually. I still miss my friend though. He was one of the goofiest, most fun guys to hang out with at that point in my life. I hope he's doing well today.

Username: kamandi

Five times so far: got nearly stabbed then shot by the same dude, nearly stabbed a different time, shot again, and nearly beaten to death multiple times(but only one was premeditated). The simplest reason for all five times is that all parties involved were intoxicated. I'll talk about the first one.

I was at a birthday party in a bad part of a bad town in California. Y'know how rappers often list a bunch of hoods known for crime: Compton, Long Beach, etc. This was one of those places. It was a female friend(and sometimes fuckbuddy)'s birthday party and I came by her apartment complex to celebrate, lets call her "Sue." We danced and drank and got high but I wasn't trying to get with her or anything just having fun.

There was this skinny hood rat who kept trying to dance with Sue but she'd make excuses and walk away, often coming to me, lets call him "Dan." Sue thought Dan was a creeper and he had been staring at her all night.

Sue and I were dancing on the second floor with a bunch of other folks and she goes to get another beer. Not 5 seconds later a hand grabs my shoulder and Dans up in my face telling me to leave or he's gonna hurt me. I'm not very tall and have a bad drunk habit of laughing at people who are acting childish, Dan didn't like that.

He hits me in the gut and I push him back to see that he had a knife in his hand. I look down and there are two neat holes in my shirt; it went right through the side, missing my skin by millimeters. I really liked that shirt.

When he came in again I leaned back to let him over-extend, got his weapon wrist, locked the elbow, and threw him down a flight of concrete stairs. By the time someone screamed I had already gone back to dancing.

Dan was okay, his buddies must've gotten him. A few hours later, around 3 am, most of the people had left and maybe a 7 of us are in her room smoking birthday blunts. I walk through the kitchen to get to the bathroom and see Dan outside the window. Our eyes lock, I see the gun, and he lets loose through the window. I dove for the hallway and thank Almighty Carlin the kid ran away when he was out of bullets.

Total damage: 1 dead, 2 wounded. Thankfully the fatality was her blender, the shirt was later mended, and the bullet that got me in the leg went through a big comfy chair first.

Username: Kedyn

This was almost exactly a year ago when I was 16. My brother is borderline retarded and has asperger's syndrome; he also tended to blow up a lot, but it rarely got violent. Well, one night, my mom wasn't home but my brother and some girl he knew were there.

I didn't know the girl was over at first, so I went to go ask him who was there at the house since honestly, he didn't have very good judgment of character and I had no idea if she was going to steal something or anything like that.

As soon as I go into his room to ask (the girl was in there too) he blows up on me for not "minding my own business". I fastwalk out of there towards the kitchen, but apparently he had followed me into the kitchen and got there a few seconds after I did. He grabbed my shirt, pushed me against the wall, and starting punching me in the head screaming that he was going to kill me.

About this time the girl pulled him off of me and I went down into the den. What I did next was both smart and stupid. I grabbed my .22 rifle and the ammo (the magazine was in the gun but unloaded). Half of me was wanting to keep it away from my brother, but the other half of my mind wanted to use it.

I didn't use it, but as I was walking away towards my mother's bedroom so that I could lock the door, my brother saw me with the gun and charged at me again. The girl restrained him again. Shortly after, she convinced him to leave and take her back home, so I locked the door behind him.

I was unstable and shaken for days because I felt so helpless. My mom didn't kick him out because she didn't want him living on the streets (he did move out and moved away with some girl that dumped him soon after).

But while he was there and even when he was away, all I could think about was how he wronged me and how I could get back. I even thought about killing him when nobody else was at home, loading one of the other guns and putting it in his hands to make it seem like he had another tantrum and tried to kill me.

But of course, I didn't. But I had no closure and it really fucked things up for a while. I got into trouble with the school administration over something stupid and I felt that helplessness all over again and basically had a mental breakdown.

I've legitimately hated my brother ever since, even though he lives far away now. Some similar incidents happened before, but that was the final straw. I know that no one should say this about their own brother, but I think everything would be better if he just died.

Username: anotherthrowaway0738