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12 Petrifying Real Life Stories That Haunted People Forever

12 Petrifying Real Life Stories That Haunted People Forever

by Ayoub Mask

This world is very dark and creepy, we often forget things like that and assume that everything will be fine, that's when something bad happens just to remind us to never let our guard down. One bad incident can reshape your entire life and determine your future, which is why people need to always be careful and suspicious of everything and everyone.

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The pervert who broke into our house

This is my mother’s story when I was an infant, my sisters were 3 and 6, and she was still married to my father.

My mother put us to sleep one night and went to bed as usual. My father was passed out drunk next to her. She wakes up a few hours later and gets the feeling she’s being watched and, without making it obvious she’s awake, scans the room. At the foot of the bed there’s a man crouched down on her side. She slowly reaches over under the covers and nudges my father. He doesn’t budge. Her leg is sticking out of the blanket and the man starts touching her feet, then her ankles. She starts pinching my dad as hard as she can. Nothing. The man is moving up her leg, taking his time since, hey, everyone’s asleep. He reaches her knee. pinch He’s running his hand up her thigh. pinch He’s almost to her lady bits and finally, with mighty pinching and persistence, she ‘wakes’ my dad up and he says “What are you doing?”

The creeper gets up and runs. My mom hears the sliding door open. She gets up and checks on us girls, fearing he may have taken one of us. We’re all there, so she shuts and locks the door and checks the front door, then goes back to bed. In the morning she takes a look around the house, inside and out. Nothing has been moved or taken but outside on her bedroom window sill is a tobacco can. That’s harmless right?

It’s full of Vaseline. Apparently this guy frequented my moms window to watch her do what should be private. He never came back, at least not inside.



"Now I’ll remember your name

In winter 2008 I was a seasonal worker at a major book retailer in a large Canadian city on the west coast. For background: Asian woman, about 5’3″, 130 lbs, and was 22 then. Not particularly pretty but possess an approachable resting face and a polite, friendly manner. You are surely shocked that I’m a creep magnet.
Store-opening shift, 9am. I usually worked as a cashier but it was slow so I was sent on the floor to shelve the History section. Ten minutes into my shift, a short and unremarkable man walked up.

“Can you help me find the book that Changeling [the 2008 Angelina Jolie movie about an old-timey kidnapping] is based on?”

I told him that while the movie is based on a real kidnapping case, we do not carry such a book.

“Well, could you recommend some books about other kidnappings?”

I don’t have any recommendations, I said. But I can take you to the True Crime section, and I’m sure you can find something there.

On our way, he asked me a lot of questions about books on kidnappings and serial killers. Strange small talk, but my read was that he was a socially awkward crime buff – the kind of person who thinks someone paid to give you good customer service is someone who will be nice to you and share your interests in any other circumstance.
I left him in True Crime, returned to History. At some point, the guy came back to where I was shelving. He showed me some books he wanted to buy – a small, gruesome stack on kidnappings, serial killers, school shootings. Then he said, “My name is Travis.” He stared at my name tag and said, “Nice to meet you, SleepyBee. SleepyBee. SleepyBee. Now I’ll remember your name.” Hairs on my neck on end, I excused myself and went back to work, cursing name tags. He disappeared.

I moved around the whole store a lot throughout the day, shelving different sections and filling in at cash. No sight of Travis over the rest of my eight-hour shift. I assumed he’d left not long after he picked out his books.

At 5:30pm, I clocked out and left the store through the front door. The second I went out the door, I felt someone fall into step with me. “Hi SleepyBee! It’s Travis, remember me?”

Chilled blood. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were working, SleepyBee, so I waited until you finished your shift! Are you going home? I can walk you.” He’d researched many kidnappings and serial killers while he waited for me, he said. Heart hammered. Oh, I said, I have to go to the bank. Stop saying my name, I thought.
The bank was next door to the bookstore. I hoped that there were other people inside, that he might leave if others were around. But no: he followed me inside. The bank had closed so no one was there. “You could use the ATM,” Travis suggested helpfully. Uh, I said, right. He waited for me while I withdrew ten dollars. He held the door open for me as we left the bank. It was already dark outside.

“Do you know who my favourite serial killer is?”

Oh, oh, I said, I forgot something at work, I have to go back right away. I took off, leaving him on the sidewalk and ran inside the store. Found the store manager and the regional manager in the office, gasped out that someone obsessed with famous kidnappings stalked me over my whole shift and tried to follow me home. They asked me call my boyfriend to pick me up, and to go by the register while they sent the plainclothes security guard over to wait with me. Act like the security guard is your friend, they said, so if Travis comes back, he won’t know you said anything and we can grab him; we’ll notify the staff to keep an eye out.

The security guard was bristling for action and trying to play it cool. My boyfriend came and we went home. Travis never returned.

“All the better to stab you with”

So I’m a petite, college-aged girl working my way through school in retail as a cashier. On Friday night I was on the front register of our small store. The place was pretty dead since it was foggy, dark and freezing outside. This guy came in and bought a phone case that came in one of those hard to open plastic packages (you know…the kind that you can only get open with scissors or a knife or something). He didn’t talk much during the transaction…just grunted when I said hello, and nodded when I asked if he had found everything alright. After he had paid for it, he was fumbling to open the package for a few minutes. He then came over to me and asked if he could borrow our scissors to cut the package open.

I said “Sure, no problem”, and as I handed him the scissors, he leaned close to me, his hand sliding over mine as he took them. He looked me dead in the eye and said in a quiet, steady voice “All the better to stab you with” before smoothly walking out and stealing my fucking scissors.

I made sure to double-check the back seat of my car when I got off work that night.

I would two men in my living room

This whole event happened when I was 9 years old. My parents went out for the night and they left me with my 2 older brothers and a couple of their friends. My oldest brother was probably 17 or 18 at the time. My other brother had to be about 11 almost 12. So all together, it was my 2 brothers, 2 of my oldest brothers friends, and me.

It was around 7:30 or 8:00 at night. I had been playing in my room. Out of nowhere, I heard a lot of banging and yelling. This freaked me out and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I of course left my room to investigate. There were 2 men in my living room yelling and flipping out. I quickly went back to my room and shut off the lights and hid under a bunch of toys in my closet.

After about 5 minutes of hiding, someone came into my room. I had a sheet over my closet at the time, so I could kind of see out of it. It was one of the men. He took a quick look around and left out. After he left out, he locked my other brother into my parents room. There was a lot of yelling still coming from the other man in the living room. I couldn’t hear anything that was being said though.

After awhile I got up and walked down the hallway a bit to see what was going on. My brother and a man were fighting on the floor. At this point I took this opportunity to get my other brother out of my parents room. My brother got the phone and called the cops. Meanwhile, my brother’s friend was fighting with the other man on the floor in the kitchen. About 10 minutes later, the cops showed up.

They arrested both of the men. Now you probably want to know why they broke in. Both of these men were drug dealers. My brothers friend had gotten mixed up in it. He owed them a lot of money, and couldn’t pay it. They somehow found out he was at my house that night and decided to come after him. I have no idea why they chose at that time, but they did. Luckily no one was hurt too badly.



The beat drop managed to scare him away

This happened about 2 weeks ago to me and my brother and it still is freaking us out. My brother is 14 and I am 17. We live in BC,Canada in a farming area, not much happens here.

Anyway we were messing around in our Dad’s Office because he is a audiophile and has a shit ton of expensive ass equipment we mess around with it when him and my mom are out of town. Total setup is probably around $30,000. At around 4 pm we heard little branches breaking outside and didn’t think anything about it maybe a little racoon? My brother was trying to play rap songs on the sound system but kept fucking about so i took a little nap.

At around 6 my brother violently wakes me up and says he hears someone laughing by the back porch. Side note on my brother hes 6’4 190lb of pure muscle but gets easily scared, and i am 5’9 140. So being the big bruh I had to go check it out. It was really creepy it got louder and louder and we started freaking the fuck out. We couldn’t see the guy because of the garage blocking the view from any window. He grabbed a Thor war hammer replica made out of steel. I panicked and picked up a 3 day old plate with nacho cheese stains on it (Yes i could have gotten a knife I am dumb). When we got out their we saw nothing, ran back inside and called our parents, Whom swiftly turned their car around and headed back home. 9 pm rolled around and we heard someone tapping on the door in a really fucked up way i can’t describe it like he was molesting the door. My brother called 911 and we ran up stairs, but the area we live in has no surrounding community really it would take a while to get here.

We ran to his room and pushed his clothes dresser in front of the door, After about 5 minutes of sweat and my brother crying, Suddenly BOOM BOOM BOOM was all we heard for the next 30 seconds, That fucker was trying to break in. The 911 dispatcher was still on the line and said they couldn’t find the house ( Where we live it is cut off by a mountainside so the only way to get to us was by back roads and trails). That’s when my brother jumped to his computer and over the Wi-Fi played This at full volume. Was the loudest beat drop i ever heard the cops eventually heard it and found us but it was too late he was long gone he got scared i guess.

Fast forward to last week they found the same guy trying to break in to another persons house and they pin pointed it to our case with his weird ass knocking technique. He was clinically insane and had walked out of a mental facility and found our house. The cops told us he heard Spongebob playing on the t.v. and wanted to watch it with us. Thanks Nickelodeon.


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The creepy guy from Facebook

A few months ago, this guy, Leon, sent me a friend request on Facebook. I saw that we had a few mutual friends, and he seemed alright, so I accepted. We started messaging back and forth a few times, but nothing nonplatonic. He struck me as a little weird, like, overblown conspiracy theorist that calls everyone “plebs” weird, but I had been willing to overlook it. One night, my friends and I were attending an event at a bar in his area. I saw on the Facebook event page that Leon was listed as attending, though we hadn’t specifically spoken about meeting up or anything. Also, I had never seen or met him in person before.

Shortly after arriving, I greeted a group of my friends (about 9 people), and I was spending most of the evening with them. Leon approached me and briefly introduced himself. We made small talk about finding the place, bands playing, stuff like that. Another female friend walked in with her boyfriend, spotted me, gave me a hug and started making general girly chitchat. Leon walked away.

The bar was crowded and really, really hot. I didn’t see Leon around anymore. I decided to go outside for some fresh air, at the same time that another guy I knew walked into the venue. Hugs all over the place, more casual chatter… and then it happened. Leon came up to me, looked at the other guy… It’s hard to describe how he said this, but it was in a tone that struck me as rude/sarcastic/aggressive. “Excuse me, am I interrupting something? Am I interrupting something?” My guy friend shot me a weird look and excused himself.

“So you’ll talk to me online, but not in person?” I thought he was joking or playfully teasing at first, and then I realized that he was serious. And angry. I can’t remember most of the conversation, but most of it involved him barraging me with accusations of ignoring him. It caught me off guard; I wasn’t sure how to respond. I just stared, surprised. I wasn’t trying to ignore this guy. His next question: “Are you socially awkward?” (What kind of question is that? If things weren’t awkward already, they sure were after that.) I explained that I was just hanging out with friends, apologized, and excused myself to step outside for a few minutes. On my way out, he turned to a friend of his who was at the bar. He started trying to attain affirmation for his tactics: “Men have to be the aggressors, right? Right?” Yeah… decided not to go back in. My friends followed me outside and one walked with me to my car.

A few angry Facebook messages from him later (though we’re no longer friends now), I see him posting links to some Masculinists website, with one particularly focusing on a picture that said “Today’s society is now dominated by women… Oh, and btw, did I mention that women are psychotic, inhuman, and contribute nothing of any value?”
I haven’t personally heard from him since then, but it seems like he’s weaseling his way into my group of friends, and it’s bugging the fuck out of me. I remember that these people weren’t previously our mutual friends, but it seemed like he was adding people off of my friends list. I saw posts in my news feed of him commenting on their statuses, talking about going drinking or hanging out sometime. They’re not really local, there’s no way he would have known them otherwise, and they’re not the people who I was at the bar with. The idea of him befriending my friends nauseates me. I don’t know what to say to them (e.g. “Hey, that Leon guy you’re friends with… he’s really weird.”), or if it’s overdramatic or immature to bring him up at all.


My neighborhood was terrorized by a red minivan

I’ve shared a few stories on here before, but this is the one that bothers me the most. It happend years ago, when I was about 13 or 14.

When I was a young teenager, back in the fall of 2006, me, my family, and my neighbors, started having bizarre encounters with an old man in a dark red minivan.

Back then, I use to live on a hill above an old nonoperational fishing village. It was about a 40 minute drive outside of the city along a highway. The high way to the village was a dead end. There was nothing down that way, except housing. There wasn’t even motels or any stores.

Most of the houses were homes to elderly people, while the others were abandoned fishing stages that overlooked the water. It was very strange to see anyone that we didn’t recognize down in the area, especially from September till May.

We would get the odd tourist during the summer months, but never from fall to spring.

When I was in middle school, every day after I got home off the bus, I would walk up to the mail box. It was about a good 15 minute walk along the highway. The mailbox was up the road, towards the city.

Past my house, there was only about 8 other houses, all on the same side of the road as mine. After those houses, it was just thick trees and marshes.

I use to like to call the area “Silent vill” instead of Silent hill. We were right on the very edge of the east coast, right by the ocean. It was a fog bank all year round. It was rare we would get sunny days. Even when it was sunny in the city, it was still foggy down there. Sometimes the fog was so thick, you barely see a few feet ahead of you.

Anyway. One afternoon after school, while I was on my usual trek back home after checking the mail box, I heard the rattling of a vehicle in the distance. I always walked facing traffic, since my mother would have a fit if I didn’t. Safety rules and all.

It was crawling towards me, its headlights clearing the fog. It was probably going about 5MPH, which was odd considering the speed limit was about 70. The minivan came to a halt about 10 feet ahead of me. Just stopped, right in the middle of the highway. I continued towards it. I figured it was someone looking for directions.

As I neared the window of the car, I could see an old man sitting in the drivers seat. He was of a fairly small build, with light grey patches of hair on his head. His eyes were very watery, and of a dull blue colour.

“Hello young lady” he said in a very soft voice. “Hi” I responded. He started making small chat with me. I really can’t remember what, but it was just sort of casual talking. I noticed he had a small fluffy white dog in his passenger seat.

The thing that really struck me odd about this dog was its body language. You see, this old man would move his hand a lot while talking. Every time he would quickly move it, his dog would sort of scrunch further back in its seat. It seemed a bit afraid of him.

Another thing odd was, he always kept his other hand between the two seats. I could sort of make out what seemed to be something of a metallic material under his hand.

After chatting with me a bit, he slowly turned his head away, then continued up the road towards the city. I shrugged it off, just figuring he was a relative of someone down in the village and continued home.

About a week went by without seeing him, and by then, he was just a memory. I was on my way up to the mail box when I heard the familiar sound of rattling coming down the roads towards me. “Him again?”, I thought. I was a little weirded out by him, so I jumped down into the ditch, and hid in the brush.

I watched as he sluggishly drove by. The entire time, he was looking around, observing. Sort of like a hunter looking for prey.

After he was long out of sight, and I couldn’t hear his vehicle anymore, I jumped up from the ditch and hurried my way up to the mail box. The last 6 minute stretch of road had no housing, so it was pretty isolated.

After snatching up the mail, I started hurrying back, and that is when I ran into him again, in the worst place possible – the long stretch with no houses..

This time, he was coming up the road quite fast. I didn’t have time to hide. He pulled up next to me, and said “Hello deary, why were you down in the ditch earlier?”, “Oh shit” I thought, he had seen me. “Oh, I thought I had seen a cat down there” I said. “You like cute animals, deary? You can get in the back seat and play with my puppy, she loves kids.” he said, smiling.

“Eh, no thanks.” I said, as I started to walk away. He reached out of his window and grabbed my arm. “Please deary, I insist. I can drive you home. You live at (my address), right?” I stood there dumbfounded. How did he know which house I lived in? I shook him off and started to run. He started backing his car up after me!
I bolted down the road and didn’t look back. At the time, my aunt lived a few houses up the road from my house, so I ran into her drive way and started frantically banging on her door. She came to the door and let me in. I used her phone and called my mother to come pick me up.

After we got home, I told her everything. She was very upset and called the police. They basically told us they couldn’t do anything, especially since we didn’t have a license plate number. After that, I wasn’t allowed to go on walks.

He continued to show up. Usually twice a week, right after my school bus dropped me off he would come driving slowly down the rode. One day my neighbor asked him what he was doing. He responded “Oh, I’m just a lonely gentlemen. I saw a women one day down the road working on her garden, and she just captured my heart.”

My neighbor told him she was married, he just laughed and said something along the lines of “If you want love to work, you have to work for it.”, then drove off. My neighbor got the license plate and called the police. About 40 minutes later the police came down, but he was long gone by then.

Our neighbor waved the police over, and talked to them. They told him the car had been reported stolen a few months back.

Sometime during November, my parents were out in the evening doing yard work. He stopped in front of our yard, and was asking my parents where I was. He said he “missed our time together, and felt neglected.” My parents got really upset and chased him away.

A few days later, I was up late at night playing FFXI on the Xbox 360 in the den. The den was on the bottom floor. I use to keep all the blinds open with the lights off in the room. I liked looking at the night sky. People could probably see me through the window, since it was facing the street.

So there I was, illuminated by the TV, all cuddled up in my big arm chair having a late night game session(probably about 2AM), and I see the familiar red minivan slowly coming down the road. I froze. It parked a few feet up the road from my property, in between our house and the house next door.

There was a small driveway, that led to no where, going in between our land. He stopped his car, turned it off, then came out. I watched in horror as he walked closer to our house. I was terrified. I pushed myself as far back into the chair as I could, hoping he wouldn’t see me. I felt like screaming, but my parents were upstairs, and both were sound sleepers.

He paced back and forth in front of our house, sort of staring. He was looking into the den. Now, this is the extremely strange part. He just stopped in place, then laid down on the side of the road in front of our house. He just laid there for a good hour. I was frozen with fear the entire time.

After about an hour, he got up, then strolled back to his car, and left. I ran up stairs crying and told my parents. They called the police again, but, he was gone by the time they got to us.

We were all frustrated. The police, despite having his license plate, couldn’t do anything, and this guy was coming around, harassing and terrifying us and our neighbors. This went on till about March.

About a month passed without seeing him. And that is when we got the news. Our neighbor, who was good friends with someone that lived down a dead end side road up a bit further, had been on a walk to his friends house. He spotted the red minivan off in a drive way of a house that had just been put up for sale. (the people were moved out).

He got filled with anger when seeing it, and ran over. When he got closer, he noticed blood on the passenger side window. He went to the closest house and used their phone to call 911. He went back over to the car to check it out.(he was pretty ballsy. He was sort of the neighborhood protector.)

The car doors were unlocked. He looked in the window to see the small dogs body, a wallet, which had an ID in it, and a bloody wrench wedged between the two seats.

He left and waited for the police to arrive. Our neighbor stayed in contact with the police. Apparently, the guy had left in a hurry, leaving his ID behind. Turns out he had just been released from prison not too long ago for offenses towards minors. We didn’t get any details though.

I felt so horrible for the dog. I really hope he never got his hands on another animal again. :(

I sometimes worry that he went on to harass other people the same way he harassed us.

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The “hot chocolate rapist” tried to get my mom

Back in the late 1990s, my mother worked part-time as a receptionist at a dry cleaner. At this point in time, she was in her late 40s, but still looked like she was in her early 30s – typical strong jaw/high cheekbones/strong brows/super voluminous, hip-length hair. She was no stranger to unwanted attention: guys would pull up to her at the traffic lights and ask her out, and once someone cut off a lock of her hair during the grand opening of a casino. She quickly became adept at turning people down in a very polite way.

The dry cleaner she worked at was on the other side of town, and she coordinated her hours with my school pick-up time. Sometimes, she’d finish early, allowing her to take a more scenic route home. On one such day, she chose to stop at a beach car park. It was a half-way point in her drive, and a cruise ship was docked at a nearby port and it caught her attention. She parked her car, exited the vehicle and sat on a nearby bluestone sea wall which provided a better view.

Although her focus was initially on the boat, she noticed a man walking up and down the beachside path. The area was relatively isolated at the time, mostly apartments and restaurants under construction, and she noted there was no reason for the man to be doubling back multiple times. Her observation was accurate – after a few minutes, the man walked up to her. He introduced himself as a doctor with an inner-city clinic. His manner of speech was rehearsed, but confident. He steered the conversation almost immediately to the idea of him buying her a hot chocolate from a nearby cafe. My mother was, and is, extremely health-conscious, and accordingly rejected his offer, citing a dislike for milk.

This threw him off. He had no idea what to say, and clearly didn’t plan for rejection. He awkwardly brought up the idea of tea, and asked my mother to come back to his place so that he could make some for her. She laughed at him and said she had somewhere to go, but he wouldn’t relent – he kept suggesting a time and day for her to visit him in his home for some tea. This remark crossed the line – she said thanks, but no thanks, and she had a daughter (me!) who needed to be picked up from school, and laughed again at the absurdity of the situation. He was clearly upset by her laughter and emotional disinterest in him, and slunk away in a dejected state.

Later, on the drive home, she told me the story and remarked on how specific the man was about the initial hot chocolate – she thought most adults would opt for a coffee over hot chocolate (particularly in our city, which has a vibrant coffee culture), and that he seemed incredibly immature for a doctor (in terms of his demeanour, speech and age). Additionally, why would he buy hot chocolate from a cafe, but insist on making tea at home? Her only description of him was that he resembled a Greek friend of hers.

Although the experience rubbed her the wrong way, she didn’t think anything of it. The initial reports detailing the “Hot Chocolate Rapist” described him as a man who preyed on younger women at clubs, and she thought it was a coincidence that a similar tactic was used on her – she wasn’t young, and it happened during the day at a beach, not a club at night, and she felt the poor guy was just super socially awkward after she said no to the hot chocolate; surely the man the police were looking for would be a typical suave sociopath kind of dude. When he – Harry Barkas – was caught in 2010 and jailed, a small courtroom sketch of the man was published in the paper. She knew who it was before she read the article.

We They wanted to rape us  ”

This happened to my cousin and I about 4 years ago. I’m 19 now and she’s 18, so we were probably about 15. (She was born in April ’95, I in September ’94, so just a few months difference.) We’re both females and relatively small. I say this to show that we couldn’t have defended ourselves from a bunch of guys if we had to.

My cousin Leah and I have been best friends our entire lives. Every summer since about 5th grade, she and I have taken a family trip to the beach, along with my grandmother and her (Leah’s) mother, who is my aunt. We stay in the same place every time: a super nice, gated condo community, across the street from the beach but so awesome that it doesn’t even matter. Since this was the only thing we got to do as a family every year, my grandmother and aunt really splurged on it and made sure it was fun.

Anyway, I had been 15 for a few months and Leah had just turned 15. We both had learning permits and were starting to drive and felt like we were really awesome and cool enough to hang out with the older crowd that frequented that particular beach during the summers, which was stupid of us, but yeah.

One particular night, after a day of shopping indoors and going to restaurants, we decided to take a walk on the beach, mainly since we hadn’t been out there all day. So, we put on shorts and flip flops, grab flashlights and walk across the over-the-street sidewalk to the beach. We get there and play around a little bit in the sand and ocean, just kind of dicking around. By this point, it’s about 11 p.m. and we decide to head back to the condo.

As we’re heading back to the wooden stairs that leave off of the beach, we see three guys walking down the beach in our direction. They looked pretty cute so we decided to take our time washing the sand off our feet at the shower head they had at the top of the stairs to see if they’d talk to us. Well, of course, they stopped and made conversation. We found out that they were 16, 17, and 19 years old. A little old for us, but whatever. They were the first guys we had ever ‘picked up’ at the beach and we were excited. After talking for a little while, we invited them to go sit back at the pool that was close to our condo. We were geniuses.

The five of us made our way back to the pool that was literally about 40 feet away from the door of the bottom-floor condo that we were staying in. However, the pool was extremely secluded. It was surrounded by a standard-height chain link fence and, around that, was a hedge that was about 3 feet higher than the top of the fence. Suffice to say, you couldn’t see anyone inside the hedge.

Now, I just want to go ahead and say that these guys were weird. Really weird. And we probably should have ditched them at the gate to the beach and took our happy asses back to the condo. They were overly touchy, especially with knowing that we were 15. However, like I said, we were young and dumb.

We stepped into the pool area, the three boys behind us, and they closed the fence and latched it. The three of them stood in front of the gate, sort of in a line, but with two of them more forward than one, if that makes any sense. Sort of like a triangle? I don’t know. A lot of what happened after they closed and latched the gate is a blur, but I’ll try my best to make it make sense.

After they closed the gate, there was a sort of awkward silence. I thought they were going to sit down on some of the pool chairs and talk or whatever, but they just kept standing there, staring at us. This was when alarms started to go off in my head. I moved a little closer to Leah, panicking a little. One of them stepped forward, and I thought he was going to sit down in a pool chair. Nope. He just looks at us dead in the face and says “Now we’re gonna rape you.”

I literally almost shit myself. I felt my heart jump into my throat. I have never felt that kind of terror in my life and I can’t even begin to describe the way I felt at that moment. Time stopped.

Leah laughed a little and I figured she thought they were joking. (She isn’t very smart…) I think this caught them off guard because they kind of stopped and stared. I took this time to pretend that I got a call on my phone from my grandmother. I held the phone up to my ear. “Hey Mimi, yeah, we’re at the pool. Oh, okay, bring me a towel please, I got wet at the beach. Okay, bye.”

I pretended to hang up and looked at Leah. “Reba is bringing a couple towels out here for us. She’s coming now to sit by the pool and read.” Leah said okay and we looked at the three guys. Still either thinking on my toes or using adrenaline to fuel my brain, I said “Cool, you guys can meet my grandmother, she’s really nice.”
Miraculously, right after I said this, a door opened and shut really close to us. The guys heard and, needless to say, high tailed it out of there. Leah and I went on our merry way, shaken up as fuck, but okay.

I have no clue what would have happened if I hadn’t been thinking so quickly. It probably would have ended pretty badly. Please, please don’t make stupid mistakes like we did. No matter how cute the guys are. Especially girls, listen to your gut, because it could save your life.

He needed my help since I was the perfect size

It was my job to drag the trash and recycling bins from behind our triplex to the curb on “garbage days.” I had to do this VERY early in the AM because it basically had to happen before I got ready/washed up for school to be out the door by 7 AM.

This particular morning a man was slowly walking up the middle of the road and approached me. As I saw him he stopped, I’d say about ten feet away.

He explained to me that he locked himself out of his house, but he left his bathroom window open. While he was too big to fit, I was the perfect size! All I would need to do is climb through the bathroom window, go to his front door, and let him back in his house.

My mom had a pretty tough 80’s Bronx upbringing so she constantly drilled it into our head to be very wary of practically everyone. I told him I’d be happy to, but first I had to ask my mom. I ran in the house and within 20 seconds she and I were back out front where I encountered this man. He was NOWHERE to be found.

This was in the early 90’s, Jimmy Ryce times so I really can’t help but think every once in a while, “if I went to help that man, would I be chopped up in little pieces and buries under a cement deck.”

Creepy masturbator kept watching me and my horse

I used to keep horses and one summer evening I went down to their field after school to ride one of them. The field is along the side of a quiet country road just on the other side of a small hill.

I was on my own riding the horse around the field when I noticed a car pull up at the side of the road and out gets a middle-aged bald man, dressed like he’d just got off work. Nothing really to worry about, there’s a fence between us, so I carry on.

I see the guy has walked into the long grass by the fence and appears to be peeing, facing me. “Huh, ok that’s weird, could have picked a more private spot.” Carried on riding…

Noticed after a minute or so that it definitely shouldn’t take that long to pee. Then I noticed the hand jerking motion while he’s staring at me on the horse…
So then I yelled that he was fucking sick and needed help. He ran to his car and sped off before I had a chance to look at the registration number.

Because of the hill this field is on, from the direction he was driving, you can’t see the field (or me in it!) until literally 5 seconds before you get to it. So this guy was probably on his way home from work, and in 5 seconds he saw me riding, and decided to pull over his car to get out and masturbate. And then afterwards he probably went home to his wife and kids and ate his dinner. What the fuck…


How my little brother almost got kidnapped

When I was young (maybe 8 years old) in the late nineties, my mom would sometimes send me run errands from a store near our building. We lived in safe neighborhood, and everyone knew everyone on our street. My mom being paranoid, would always keep an eye on me from the balcony or the window for the few minutes it took me to get there and back.

So one day my younger brother (who is not allowed outside on his own) insisted on tagging along. He’s a quiet kid and rather shy, he held my hand all the way there and I only let go of him when I went to pay for whatever I bought and wait for my change. He couldn’t have been out of my sight for more than 30 seconds, I turned expecting him to be right beside me and I see him just a few feet away but with 3 or 4 adults standing between us, so that for a passer by he seemed to be alone.

I’ was puzzled when I saw an old lady bending down saying something to him. There was nothing remarkable about her, she was fit the stereotype of the sweet old lady who would wave at me and tell me to have a nice day at school. I didn’t have the time to wonder who she was and why she was talking to my brother, my alarm bells went off when I saw her holding his hand, but what made my heart drop was what I heard her say “your mom send me to pick you up”.

My heart starts pounding and I do the only thing I can think of, I hurry to him grab his other hand, give her my best death glare and yank him away. I don’t say a word to her, I don’t think I could have spoken if I wanted to. I just stand there, look her straight in the eyes and glare at her which I’m sure I didn’t look very threatening. But I guess she was looking for an easy pray and it was clear I wasn’t going to just follow her quietly, plus the street was very busy and if she tried to force us I would have made a scene and she must have known it.

If there was any doubt in my mind that there was a misunderstanding, it went away when she just looked at me let go of him and disappeared into the crowd. She didn’t say a word to me, she just turned around and walked away.

My mom warned us about strangers, about talking to them or getting into their cars, but never in a million years would it have crossed my mind to peg someone like that a kidnapper. In my head kidnappers were the stereotypical evil characters I saw in tv, like someone who reminded me of my grandma. Sweet old ladies stealing babies by day, knitting socks by night, who would have thought it.

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