Real home invasion stories
The home invasion that almost was
“I was sitting in the kids’ bedroom, putting them to sleep…my husband in the living room working. The house was pretty quiet. We heard someone turn the knob on the back door and bump it hard-twice, as if trying to shove the door open. My husband brought me the shotgun, and went exploring outside with the pistol (he was a county reserve cop at the time). Never did see anyone. The weird thing? I usually don’t end up locking the doors until we go to bed (usually a couple hrs after the kids), but for some reason I had a nagging feeling to lock it early that night. If I hadn’t, God knows what would’ve happened. It was obvious that we were home and at least someone was awake (husband had kitchen and living room lights on), so whatever they wanted, was not just to take things.
He spoke with his fellow officers, but nothing was ever found. He did find a footprint by the garage the next morning….was way too big to have been his. We waited and waited for a follow-up break in, and it never happened. I am a stay at home mom, so I kept the pistol within reach for a while, when the kids were in school and I was home alone. Nothing like that has ever happened again…HOWEVER, a few months later my 11-year-old son did move out of his bedroom because he felt like he was being watched. Said he kept hearing footsteps outside his windows. Before we moved in, his room was a back porch that the previous owners had boxed in. The old concrete porch steps are still outside his room, and lead to a big window the previous owners put in (it doesn’t open). I’m sure it could’ve been neighborhood stray cats, but this was just a few months after the door incident.”
The sliding glass door
“One of my childhood homes had a balcony that was attached to both my mother’s bedroom and mine via big, glass doors in each of our rooms. Next to the balcony are two trees, one I often used to climb up and down from the balcony. One night when my brother and mother weren’t home and I was about 13, reading in bed with a very dim reading light. I heard what sounded like something moving in one of the trees outside , but this didn’t worry me as possums and bats are common in our area. Now I had thin curtains on the glass doors that separated my room and the balcony, and the doors faced out towards the street where street lamp light was always visible through my curtains. Shortly after hearing the tree rustling noises, I see a shadow slowly move past the doors, at which point I immediately turn off my reading light and freeze like a deer in headlights.
The shadow is tall, so it wasn’t a neighbor kid and it wasn’t my all of 5ft mother. The person moved slowly, creeping as though they were trying to not be noticed. They wouldn’t likely be able to see into my room but I could see them thanks to the streetlights behind them. They moved past my doors out of sight, I sat their unable to move or even think about what to do other than be absolutely still.
That is, until I heard another sound, the sound of someone trying to open a glass door, my mum’s doors to the balcony. I didn’t know if she had locked them or not but I wasn’t taking chances. I moved as quickly and as silently as I could to my bedroom door and locked it. I listened for what the person was doing now, they were still jiggling the glass door handle, but it sounded like the doors weren’t opening. I felt relief, this person couldn’t get in surely, all I had to do was wait for them to realize that and then they would leave right?
Well, I heard light foot steps move back along the balcony to my set of glass doors until I saw his shadow stop directly in front of them. Again, I froze, he couldn’t see me, he couldn’t know I can see him. I saw a shadow of a hand reach up to my doors handle and my heart stopped, had I actually locked those doors myself today? I was out there earlier, what if I forgot?
The seconds leading up to him grabbing the handle felt like an eternity. But thankfully, when this person tried to open the door, it did not open, it was locked. I sighed such a sigh of relief I was worried he had heard it. After this he began pacing the length of the balcony. I didn’t have a mobile, the landline was at the other end of the house but I was scared to take my eyes off of them. I was silently crying, and praying they would just leave.
Then I heard him stop moving, he then said “I could just break the glass you know”.
Before I could even process this I saw car headlights turn around the corner of my street and then stop at our property gate. My mum was home. The person on balcony moved out of sight and I heard a loud thump as they jumped off of it. When my mum came inside I was hysterical and was barely coherent in telling her what happened. Eventually I got the message across and she called the police. They never found or caught anyone, but a neighbor reported a truck in the street that matched the description of a truck that had been reported recently for attempted child abductions near my school a block away…”
I overheard a murder
“I was living in Las Vegas at the time and was 19. I lived in a trailer park in North Town. A not so nice area of Vegas.The trailers we’re about 10 feet apart at best. At about 1100pm I heard the sound of bodies flopping on the ground from the trailer next door, sounded like someone wrestling or fighting but no yelling or loud voices. I then heard the screen door of the trailer open and a car speed off. I thought nothing of it and keeps to myself.
My roommate was at work and wouldn’t be home till morning. I went to bed. I woke up to a tapping on my front door. As I opened my eyes I saw a police officer holding a shotgun leaned against my window. I woke up in a hurry and answered the door. The police officer told me I had to vacate the premises for my own safety. Apparently the sounds I heard were from my neighbor who stabbed and killed someone in the trailer. The car driving away was the murder victims friend who drove to Nellie air Force Base for help. my neighbor kept the body in the house until the SWAT team showed up and extracted the man from his home VIA tear gas. This was just the beginning of crazy things to happen while out west but by far one of the most memorable.”
“I’m just looking”
“Someone wandered into my house at like 2 in the morning, and said he was “just looking”. Told me it wasn’t very neighborly when I told him to leave or I would shoot.”
I recorded voices that weren’t supposed to be there
“Worked third shift at the time, my kids told me I had started snoring. I didn’t believe them and decided to record myself sleeping while they were in school. Turned the recorder on said ” this is to see if I snore.” First you could hear me breathing then go into a deep sleep, after a while, snoring, then clear as day, two voices talking to each other over me. I was home alone. They said: “Can she?” “I don’t think she can.” I had the tape for years. I always thought they were wondering if I could hear them.”
But then who was faucet?
“I was housesitting for my friend and her dogs were acting crazy, barking at nothing, whimpering, etc. Eventually I heard a weird noise upstairs. I counted the dogs, they were all with me. You know that person you yell at for looking around the house instead of just calling the police? Yeah, that was me. The knife drawer was babyproofed and I’m an idiot so I grabbed a meat fork.
Messaged a group chat that if they didn’t get updates from me every five minutes they should call the cops. Went looking around. Tried to bring a dog with me, but they were having none of it. Eventually found the source of the noise and was relieved to see that it was just the sink. Turned it off and texted the group chat “Nvm, it was just the sink.” One of my friends replied “But who turned it on 😱” and immediately the friggin’ lever pulls forward and water started coming out. I rubber-banded it closed (water conservation is important) and high tailed it out of there. Sat there with meat fork in hand watching movies all night. No way I was sleeping in that house.”
“I was home alone, with my then 3 month old. My guy was working overnights. I start hearing static over the baby monitor so I get up to check, just to make sure. I get to the doorway and I see a silhouette of a very tall man. Except it was like a negative of light where he was standing. The hallway light should have hit him and some kind of color should have shown, but it was just black. Absence of light. Just standing there, watching.
I reached around the door, flipped on the light and grabbed my son. Turned for a quick look, before I bolted hell bent for a frozen night outside, and he wasn’t there. I stopped, turned off the light and the shadow was there but a few steps closer. I slammed the door, cracking the frame in the process and spent the rest of the night in my fully lit bedroom with my little. He just giggled. It wasn’t the last I saw of him in my son’s room and my now 5 year old has spoken of him often.”
Secure, contain, protect
“I was awake late one night on the computer reading about SCPs which I had only recently learned about. At the time I did not know the material was based on a video game. I thought it was a collection of creepy stories. I could not verify the validity or fiction of the information because for example the database site had no information about the web administrators.
I was most unsettled by a SCP I read about a humanoid like creature that if directly looked at runs toward and kills you. Of course there was a photo of it so I began to worry it had begun it’s trekk and maybe weeks or months later would confront me. I pictured it running at full spring through deserts, along roads and bodies of watet to get to me. I sat up to see an odd figure with what looked like elongated arms in the parking lot of my apartment building. The lot was small as was the building (only two stories tall with eight units), was shared with small businesses and wedged in by several structures. My living room window faced it.
I stood up once again to ensure I was not hallucinating. The second look, it began coming towards me. I ducked immediately. A third time after waiting quite a while I checked. It proceeded to advance once more. I stopped checking. I spent the night hunched over to keep myself out of sight. I don’t remember if I slept but in the morning I looked and saw it was gone. I still think about that night and wonder, if SCPs are just part of a game, what and why did I see that thing?”
“What are you eating?”
“I was eating a sandwich and I was looking for something to watch on TV so I was dialing (back in the 80s) and I flipped it to static but I heard people talking, so I left it to listen.
A man’s voice then asked “que estas haciendo?” (What are you doing?)
There was no answer so I kept listening. I took a bite of my sandwich and then the same voice asked, “que estas comiendo?” (What are you eating?)
I just turned off the TV and left the living room!”
“Heard someone whisper “Oh look, he’s sleeping” through the baby monitor in my baby son’s room. Now, I know that those things can get mixed up with other monitors that are near, but we lived in a small complex with a bunch of childless people that was well away from any other houses. In another house, a long time before I married or had children, I was home alone doing stuff in the kitchen and heard something fall onto the floor. Turned around and a candle holder that had been on the counter (not near the edge) was sliding at a steady pace across the floor. I stood and watched it for a second, walked over, picked it up, and waited on the porch until someone came home. There was a lot of activity in that house.”
A sign from beyond
“Right after my brother in law passed away I was at my sister’s house alone waiting for her to get home and the stereo turned itself on skipped CDs and put on a song he used to love, I asked him to knock it off and it turned off!”
My dog sensed something
“I was in my early teens and laying in bed late one night reading and my golden retriever was laying in bed with me. It was pretty late and everyone else in the house was asleep. My dog sat up and started to stare out in the dark hall. She suddenly began to growl this deep growl, one that I have never heard before. I reached out and touched her but she kept staring and growling. Then, like someone hit a switch, she stopped. Then she got up, moved closer to me and laid down facing the open doorway. Scared the hell out of me and gave me a whole new level of appreciation for dogs.”
A bad omen
“Stayed home sick once in high school while everyone else was gone to school or work. I was laying in bed around 9 a.m. and I heard a glass bust in the kitchen. I walked in there and all the cabinet doors were open and the back door (which we never used and was always locked) was standing wide open. And this was in like January so it was freezing. I shut the door and looked around but couldn’t find anything broken, but as soon as I started to go back to my room a black bird swooped out of nowhere and scared the piss out of me. I chased it out with a broom and went back to bed.
I’m not sure what went on there, but I know there is an old wives tale that says a black bird in your house is a bad omen that someone is going to die. After all that happened, my aunt died the next morning.”
The door opened on its own
“I was leaving to go to one of my classes and I had my book bag on, the dogs cable (we kept her outside when it was nice out), and her bowls in my hands. I think to myself “how am I going to open the door”. I turned around and the door is opening. I said thank you and proceeded to walk out of the house.”
Cabinets opening and closing
“When I was a kid grew up in a house with a lot of paranormal activity. Everyone was scared of the place. It had a very oppressive feeling, like someone who hated you was glaring at you. I was around 17 and my parents were out. I walked into my kitchen to get a snack and all hell broke loose. The cabinets all started opening and slamming shut, the fridge and oven doors too. It went on until I ran out of the room then with one big slam they all shut. I was so fucking glad when we finally moved.”
A drunk dude
“I was about 15 and home alone, a guy I didn’t know pulled up in my driveway.This drunk dude got out of this old, rusty, beat up white Datsun.He was staggering and had a beer bottle in his hand .Thinking it was probably someone looking for my Dad,I asked if I could help him ,he said ,sure can sugar ,come on down here and party with me.I said ,no sir I ain’t gonna do that and you need to leave. Well he said I’ll just come up there then.Long story short ,I ended up shooting the bottle out of his hand.Don’t know how badly I hurt his hand but there was blood. He sobered up real quick and left even quicker.”
Someone opened the drawer
“Wasn’t really home alone but I was the only one in the house. I was sitting on a couch in the living room and heard someone open a drawer in the kitchen. It happened to be that the only drawer that squeaked was the one I kept my asthma medication in so I was curious why anyone would need to rummage through it. I heard the drawer slam shut again and watched for someone to come out of the kitchen. When no one did I got up to check and there had been no one in there. Totally freaked me out.”
“We moved into my Mom-n-Laws house after she moved away she said that since her husband had died that something in the house was trying to kill her. Pushing her out bed. Tripping her .. She has had glasses and cups fly at her head. So she moved to Va. We thought she was trying to get attention .We moved in and we have had stuff like things moving on there on and knocking on the walls but nothing like she experienced. She came back for a visit at the 1st of Sept. and she wasn’t there a night and something just went at her. A picture flew off the wall at her she was sitting at the dining table and something bumped her chair so hard that she was knocked from her chair and it caused her to hurt her arm. She went to a hotel after that and hasn’t set foot back in here. Things here are fine here now.”
“My husband got a new phone so he put his deactivated one on dining room table. one day after several weeks of being totally dead it rang . see looked at it and the number was from his deceased brother who had been dead a few years. We got rid of that phone fast.”
“I wasn’t alone but a crazy women was trying to break into my house. I kept telling my sons dad I can’t sleep something bad is going to happen so I started locking our door,
(small town) sure enough. She was telling us we were in her house. I had a two year old and another baby on the way when that happened. I give credit to major mommy intuition for knowing.”
I lived next to a cemetery
“A little boy about 8 or 9, peered out at me from the bathroom doorway. My son was only 2 and in bed. When I was a kid, we lived in an old farmhouse next to a cemetery. I would wake up some nights to see a man in my doorway watching me sleep. He would walk away when I woke up. He always had a scarf around his neck. Same house, I would hear a woman call my name. I’d yell to my mom asking what she wanted, but she never called out to me. House before that, we definitely had a ghost- Mr. Craig. Previous owner, had died in the house. Played pranks all the time. Moved books, toys, played with toys, etc. I had a fisher price garage that rang a bell when you turned the handle. That would go off by itself sometimes. My parents had a bell on the mantle that was a wedding gift. It would ring in the middle of the night. He appeared to my dad when he was working in the workshop in the basement.”
I think someone was there
“I was watching a show and heard someone closing drawers and cabinets in my kitchen so I paused my show…. the sound stopped. I put my show back on and a little later heard the noise again. So again, I paused my show. And then again, the sound stopped. So I was getting freaked out and I was staring at my door cuz I was scared someone was in my house. I happened to glance down and saw a light beaming underneath my door. I slowly go out into the kitchen and the kitchen light is on but no one else is home. I never leave lights on… very cheap when it comes to the power bill.”
They thought no one was home
“Years ago, someone was digging in our metal mailbox for our spare key and I thought it was my (now ex) husband who was drunkenly fumbling and couldn’t find his key. So I holler it’s unlocked and no one came in. He was still out at the bar and whoever it was knew where our spare was and was trying to get in, thinking no one was home.”
It was still warm
“I was house sitting for my parents once while they were on a cruise. They live in a house that’s really ornate inside and everything is always in its place. I didn’t have a car so it sucked since it was 8 miles to the nearest anything. It was on the 3rd night I went to bed like normal, I got up in the middle of the night cause I heard the cat running crazy and I was gonna put him in his cage so I could sleep. When I turned on the lights I noticed something definitely out of place on the dining table that is usually clear and no one eats at. There was a McDonald’s meal and cup sitting at the seat nearest me. The ice was still unmelted and the food was still warm. I got freaked out so bad, I slept with the cat on the floor by a corner the remaining nights. All the doors completely bolted and locked until my parents came back. They couldn’t figure out why I had a made a nest until I told them. Still no idea how the McDonald’s got there but I don’t go over much anymore.”
The radio went off
“My daughter was 16 at the time and went to spend the night at her friends house. I stayed up late watching movies, around 2am her stereo upstairs turned on and blasted heavy metal music. (Something she didn’t even listen too). I went upstairs and attempted to turn it off, not knowing how to work the damn thing and not wearing my glasses, I pushed buttons and pulled the cord out of the wall. I finally got the music off and the stereo lights went off. About 10 minutes later, I was finally calming down when the it turned on again!! I was scared half to death, but living in a small town with close neighbors I had to go up and turn it down. I grabbed my glasses, went upstairs ( turning every single light on in the house as I went.) I turned the power button off, I turned the volume down as low as it would go (was tempted to yank the thing off the shelf and toss it in the trash can.) The music stopped. When my daughter got home, I scolded her about setting a timer, or leaving the volume up high. I also asked her where the batteries were, because I would have ripped them out to shut it off. She thought I was crazy, and told me; “Mom, there are no batteries in it and there is no “timer”……. I pretended like it was no big deal and dropped the subject, but it did shake me up a little bit.”
Something tried to pull me out of bed
“feeling myself being pulled out of my bed with my feet just a few inches from the floor at 1 am by an unseen force maybe more than one telling them to just go away and they finally did let go thankfully there weren’t any signs of marks just very sore ankles. To this day I’m still shaken.”
I thought I was alone
“Was home working on some paperwork late at night. Other than desk light house was pitch black and home alone. Heard some weird noises but since I’m slightly hard of hearing I thought it was just the fridge dropping ice. After about an hour of paperwork by desk lamp had to take a break. Walked into the kitchen and all the cabinets and drawers were open.”
Last night, I was laying in bed watching youtube videos on my phone and falling asleep when I hear someone struggling with their lock next door. Then silence, and then a different adjacent condo sounds like they’re having trouble. This didn’t sound right, I silently got out of bed and grabbed my M&P 9 (note: my condo has an extremely open floorplan, all rooms open into the main room). Then, my door. Fidgeting, and then nothing. Then, I see the outline of a man in the twilight at my cracked open window, I can see his silhouette through the blinds. I chamber a round.
He punched my screen out and tried to climb in. Had his head, one arm, and one leg through. Still, I didn’t fire. I had dialed 911, took almost 30 seconds to get someone with all of the auto attendant menus asking if I speak Spanish. All the while, I’m screaming get the fuck out of my house, someone call 911. Dispatch finally answers, I start shouting my address. Shouting get the fuck out of my house, home invasion in progress, I can’t get out and will defend myself (note: live in Portland, OR. No duty to retreat).
Here’s my fuckup: I set the pistol down and grabbed my Mossberg 500 12 gauge loaded with 00 buck. I rack the slide, in the moment I had hoped that the distinctive sound would show I’m not fucking around. He says “I don’t give a fuck.” Welp. I switch back the M&P, I practice with it more and am more confident with it. Plus, 17 shots vs. 5. But in stupidly switching weapons, I took my eyes off target. Left myself vulnerable. Big fuckup, could have been a bad outcome.
But he just stared at me, then left. That was it. about a minute later, 3 cruisers roll up. Total time of incident from initially picking up my pistol to copes showing up was under 4 minutes. When seconds count, police are minutes away. Even with pretty fast response time like that. I will also say that Portland PD have always been very professional when I’ve dealt with them, no complaints. Once statements were done and they left to canvas the area, I grabbed my Shield 9 and drove to the GFs house for the night.
They broke a window (testing to see if he had an alarm?) but didnt steal anything. He didnt tell anyone thinking it was kids being dumb. Few days later they come back and clean out his place while at work.
The first home invasion happened in 1994,i was 5 and we lived in a rough area (housing commission),i was in the loungeroom with my new baby sister when a brick came smashing through the window next to us,the brick landed inside my sister bassinet but she was luckily unharmed,the next thing i remember is my parents hurrying myself and my two brothers upstairs and told us to hide under our beds,i watched my dad get a knife and tape it to the end of a broom,they tried kicking our front door in but didn’t succeed and the police arrived and scared them off .. needless to say we all slept in the same room and bed that night.
The second home invasion happened when i was 10 years old,i came home to my family going about their normal behavior,my dad had some friends over,they were at the kitchen table laughing and talking,it was about 7pm (for those in Australia we were watching home and away) my dad and his friends went into my parents room while my mother,sister and older brother and one of dads friends stayed in the lounge room,after a few minutes we heard the sound of things falling over and bangs up against the wall so we all looked up the hall way and out came my dads friend holding a knife to his throat and demanding money,they cut our phone line and forced us onto the same lounge but keeping my dad in the same position,terrified my sister and i cried uncontrollably,we were told to shut up or they would hurt us,we couldn’t stop and i was stabbed in my top thigh (the scar today sorta looks like a indent) my dad convinced them to all go downstairs,all we heard was fighting and the front door slammed my dad came back upstairs with a big cut across the top of his arm saying they are gone,we all ran next door and rang the police.
(My other brother stayed in his room the entire time and didn’t even know it happened because he had earphones in)
My (potential) home invasion
I was working from home today. My husband had to leave for the dentist right as the plumber arrived to work on the tub. No problem. The plumber has been here before, he’s legit, I”m on a conference call with a customer. Plumber has to leave to get a part. Comes back, fixes the tub (YAYY!!) then leaves.
I’m still on conference calls (on mute), give the faucet a thorough check to make certain it feels right, sit down in front of the computer, and the doorbell rings. I bet the plumber forgot a tool!
I run to the door and open it, and there is a strange person standing there, with a strange smile on his face. I’m shorter than 5’1″, and this person was close to 6′ feet tall.
“ummm, can I help you?”
“Hello” He looks over my shoulder at the room behind me and he starts to walk in. My door isn’t fully opened, I”m blocking the entrance with my body and he starts to walk into me like i”m not even there. I weigh about 120, and this person was well over 200.
I threw my shoulder into his rather large belly and pushed back.
“You are not allowed in my house”
He stepped back, and I slammed the door. Then realized that the client call had gone off mute. (hope they didn’t hear that)
I stayed on the call, very professional, answered all the clients questions, when the call ended, I called the cops. I’m scared. Was that a potential home invasion? The guy was huge! I have no idea who he was. He certainly was not the plumber or with the plumber.
The more I think about it, the more terrified I get. And the bigger he gets in my mind. I held it together through the phone call, but now, I’m shaking.
Am I overreacting? To a stranger trying to walk into my house? He wasn’t even a Jehovah’s witness, he didn’t tell me anything other than “hello” and try to walk right into my house, expecting me to move out of his way.
My wife just had our first child a month ago and after seeing how she handled labor, I thought my respect for her was at it’s maximum. Well she’s gone and upped the ante:
Around 8:00 PM last night two men broke into our house through the back window. I was away at the time and my wife thought it was me coming home. They made it as far as the dining room (just a few feet from the living room where she was sitting with our one month old daughter) when she realized what was happening and ran upstairs.
After putting our daughter on the bed, she grabbed the Ruger SP101 (which we keep loaded and accessible for just such occasions). She then went downstairs loudly warning the thugs that she was armed and dangerous.
Between her shouting and the sound of the first empty chamber being cleared, the thugs must have thought better of sticking around and grabbed whatever they could as they beat a hasty retreat. I have no doubt that they were seconds away from having a life “changing” experience.
I have a pretty big house, my room has a huge window where my bed is right next to so at night I usually stay up on my ipod on my bed with the window open. On the outside of my window there’s the driveway where my dad’s cars are parked. The window was closed that day and all the lights where off except the red glow of my alarm clock. At around 3 a.m I for some reason I look out the window. There’s this about 5’8 guy in a big black sweater starring directly into my window. He is about 10 feet away from me and I’m starring right at his face. I thought he was going to run away but I realize he cannot see me at all. While all of this is happening he is walking very slowly sideways still looking right at my window. I run to my dad’s room, wake him the fuck up, get a bat I had lying around and run to the front door which leads right out to the driveway. I unlock the door turn the doorknob and kick the shit out of the door so he can clearly hear it. I walked outside to give him time to run. I looked around and my dads car door was wide open, also the backyard motion sensitive lights were on which meant he ran around my house out the right side. No cops necessary. Like a boss.
I was home alone overnight (I was 11 but begged my dad to not get a sitter) and sitting on the computer in the ‘living room’ that had big french windows. The backyard motion light goes on but I didn’t think much of it since we lived in the woods and rabbits and deer were common. After it didn’t go off for 10 minutes or so I look over my shoulder at the window to see if some deers were eating my dad’s garden and see an olderish (50) man just staring right at me. Right in my eyes. I was so scared I couldn’t move. I finally jumped up and ran upstairs to my dad’s room and grabbed his gun and sat in the corner of the room facing the door.
When my dad got home in the midmorning he found me still crawled up in the corner clutching the gun.
Since then my biggest fear is looking out the window and seeing other people looking back at me.
At about 3:00 this afternoon a group of guys attempted to break into my second floor apartment…while I was home. I was in my office on the computer when there was a knock at the front door. When I answered there were two guys there, they looked surprised when I answered and asked me if I had see their dog. I told them no, said I would keep an eye out, and as I was walking back down the hall I looked out the window in time to see another guy climbing over the balcony. He saw me and climbed down real quick, I ran over, lock the door to the balcony, grab my phone, locked myself in the bathroom and called the police. It was so scary.
The worst part is that I live in a very small town in a pretty nice apartment on the second floor. There is NO WAY these guys went unseen while climbing my balcony as my balcony faces the central courtyard of our complex and there were lots of people coming and going, yet no one bothered to question their actions. I no longer feel safe in my own home, it’s hours later and I am still shaking. I just keep thinking about what would have happened if I had not answered the door, I could have walked out of the bathroom or something and right into the middle of a robbery….
My best friend in high school lived in an old plantation-type house and we would always hang out there during the summer since both of her parents worked, and we would have the house to ourselves. There was a wide front door that opened into a hall with doors leading to the living room, the kitchen, and bedrooms, as well as a really wide staircase. All of the doors always stayed closed off in the summer, to help with cooling that big house. One day, when we are both about 14, we were there alone, and in the back of the house in the kitchen, making lunch. The radio is on, and we had been outside tanning, and are only wearing swimsuits with t-shirts. We heard what sounded like somebody walking up and down the front porch, so I go to the living room and look out the window and don’t see anything. I open the door to the hall, and stand at the front door, looking out. I still don’t see anything. I heard somebody say, “Hey!”, and I turn around, and there is the biggest man I have ever seen standing about halfway up the staircase. I just froze! I couldn’t move or speak. About that time my friend reaches out from the living room, and pulls me back in and slams the door. We ran through the kitchen, and out the back door to a neighbors house. The neighbor goes and runs the man off, but not before the man tells him that he thought it was a boarding house, and he was looking for a room to rent. After that, we were both a little OCD about checking that the front door was locked. About a week after that happened, we saw the mans mugshot in our local paper after he had been arrested for raping a young girl not too far up the street! Many years later, after my friend and her family had moved from that house, the city condemned it, and tore it down. When they did, they found two skeletons behind a wall that had been there since the 20’s. Come to find out, it HAD been a boarding house many years ago, and they think the lady who ran it may have knocked off a couple of salesman or something.
I used to sneak out of my window at night when I was a teenager, our house was slightly away and lower than the road, so that you had to walk down a path to get to the front door. The path went right past my window, which faced the road, making it super easy for me to simply climb out and off into the night.
Because of this bad habit my mum used to quite often wake up in the middle of the night to come and check to make sure I was still in bed. One night as I’m lying awake I hear her get up. I can hear my neighbours outside making a fair bit of noise, so I knew she would come into my room thinking it was me climbing out the window. I pretended to be asleep but I can still hear her walking around our house, unsettled by the noises. I hear her go into the bathroom which has a window facing out onto the side of the house.
Two seconds later she is thundering down the hall, wrenches open the front door and starts screaming at the top of her lungs.
I basically jump out of my skin, I have NO idea what is going on, I hear people running and yelling, all the while my mother is standing in her pajamas screeching her head off.
While she had been in the bathroom she distinctly heard people whispering loudly, and her immediate reaction was anger that there were people on our property. When she ripped open the door she found about 4 people, all with hoods over their heads and heavy duty torches, in the middle of sneaking down our path and either side of the house. Luckily they just bolted when she screamed.
I struggled to sleep in that room where I could hear every little noise on the path outside until the day I moved out, certain that those people were going to return for whatever it was they wanted.
When I was a freshman in college, I was taking a nap in my room. The door was locked, my roommate was in class, and I was in my super-deep sleep mode (I’m a really heavy sleeper). I wake up after an hour or so, go outside my room to the bathroom, and see my dorm neighbor. She said that a maintenance worker unlocked and went in my room while I was asleep – didn’t knock – and took a box out of the room (went in empty-handed and came out with a shoe-box size thingy). I never heard anything or woke up, but my neighbor wasn’t prone to lying about things this weird.
So, neither my roommate nor I had ordered any maintenance, there was no reason for this guy to come into my room – and he did not knock, but unlocked my door, came in, must have seen I was asleep, but still took whatever it was and left, locking the door after him. I never figured out what he took – maybe it was something of my roommate’s, but STILL. WHATTHEFUCK.
I’m still a heavy sleeper. And this still scares me.
When I was 17, I had a boyfriend who was in the Army. We didn’t live on base, but in a tiny neighboring town nearby. He had some beef with a skinhead gang who had some members that were also in the Army.
One night while we were sleeping, they knocked on our door. It was about 2AM, and we had no peephole or window near the door, so I opened it with the chain on. As soon as I did, 5 guys rushed the door and broke the chain. They all had baseball bats. The lights in the living room only stayed on for about 10 seconds, because they began smashing my lamps, the overhead light on the fan, and then the kitchen and bedroom lights with their bats.
I’ve never almost pissed my pants until then. I was so scared, my legs turned to rubber. Strangely, after they broke the chain, but before they smashed the lights, my vision got really dark. Like the lights were dimming down. This was the first time it ever happened, but to this day, if something startles me, my vision goes almost black before snapping back to normal.
So these guys grab my boyfriend and are holding him down on the couch. Two guys holding him down while the others take swings at his torso with their bats. I have no clue what to do, so I try to tackle them by taking a running jump. It’s not really effective. I’m 17 and short, and these guys are like 25 and huge.
My feet are bloody and cut up from running through broken glass, and I’m only wearing a tshirt and undies. We had one phone in that house and it was in the bedroom, and I somehow felt like these guys weren’t going to let me get at it.
I ran out of the house, no shoes, bloody feet, glass digging in deeper every step, and looked for the town’s only cop. This is Nolanville TX, population 2,000. I ended up at the post office, a few blocks over. There’s a payphone, so I try calling 911. It rang and I was immediately put on hold. While I was waiting, the cop found me.
He handcuffed me and put me in the cruiser because I didn’t have any pants on. I tried to explain that my house had been broken into and my boyfriend was being assaulted, but the cop insisted on running my SS# to make sure everything ‘added up’.
While I was in the back of the police car, I see the 5 guys drive past us in a pickup truck.
After everything checked out okay with my record, the cop drove me home, blowing off my break-in story. My door was wide open, only the porch light lit. My boyfriend was still on the couch, curled up in a ball. He declined to go to the hospital (we found out later he had two broken ribs). The cop called a backup unit from another neighboring town and then urged us to name the attackers, but my boyfriend wouldn’t. We’ve never been fond of local law enforcement.
Not much ever came of it, except I have a little PTSD from it, and we bought a shotgun to keep beside the front door.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t home but my wife and one month old daughter were.
Two guys broke in with all the lights on and the tv blaring. They came into the living room where my wife and baby girl were sitting on the couch. My wife ran upstairs with the baby and grabbed our Ruger SP101 .357.
I guess between hearing the first chamber clear and my wife yelling that she was armed and dangerous they got scared and ran. Not before stealing a fairly new mac book pro that I gave her as a present (she’s a photographer and it had all of her pictures on it) and my work laptop (I’m self-employed).
I’m glad that we’ve talked about that type of scenario a couple times so she was prepared when it happened. Also glad I’m married to a bad@$$ momma.
Home Invasion Stories Where Someone Was Watching The House
Our house was broken into when I was a kid. We were on vacation at the time but came home immediately. I remember the house being a complete mess. My father owns a business and at the time had just upgraded his home office to new Windows 95 computers, and an office of the 90s was a gold mine for home theives. The cops told us it was probably 5 or 6 pros, who promptly left when they heard on their police scanner that our new neighbors had called it in. None of us have ever felt that safety of a home. The most startling part was finding kitchen knives in all of our bedrooms. Knowing they had watched us for some time to know our schedule and finding weapons that the police confirmed were probably to be used if someone was home still keeps me up at night 20 years later.
I go and walk my dog around my house pretty late at night (12 am-1 am)…maybe not the safest thing, but I live in the woods and away from people.
Anyways, I start walking downstairs and notice my sister’s door is open and the light is on…it struck me as odd considering she moved out 6 years ago, and nobody ever goes in there. I walk in to turn the light off and close the door and I see a man trying to hide behind the closet door (it’s broken, filled with boxes, so there was no real way he could hide from me).
I act like I didn’t see him and I went and grabbed my shotgun from in the other room. Went back in and told him not to move or I’d fucking kill him.
He jumped out from the closet and took off running as fast as he could, right past me, into the garage, and out into the woods. I could have shot him, but I didn’t.
I saw his face…a few days earlier he knocked on my door claiming to know my neighbor and said he was looking for copper to sell…asked if I knew or had any old copper he could have. I gave him a few old car batteries I had and that was that. He said he had two daughters he was trying to take care of…
I didn’t call the cops, but that’s the extent of my mercy…if he came back the next night he was dead.
When I was four, my parents worked long hours at a restaurant. They left my brother to babysit me until 10-10:30pm at night. He’s eight years older than me so 12 years old at the time. Every night When my parents come home they’ll ring the bell and I’ll run to greet them at the door with my brother. One day the bell rings and when I open the door, instead of my parents, it’s 4 guys standing there. Apparently They had been watching the house and knew the routine. They have guns and tell my brother and me to go downstairs and watch the t.v. as one of the guy’s stands guard over us. They let me sit there but they tie my brother up using his Nintendo cords. I remember going to tug at the cords at my brothers wrist (I wasn’t trying to untie him, it was more out of curiosity) and the guy actually pointed his gun at me and told me to stop. When they finished going through the house, they tie us both to a beam and leave. After a little while my brother wiggled out from the bindings and my parents came home. Cops were called and info was given to the police. They got a few pieces of jewelry and a camcorder.
My mom had recently been making a lot of brownies. On this day, she made a particular batch that was greater than any of the brownies she had made before. We ate a few, but for some reason didn’t finish them and we left them out on the kitchen stove.
My mom, my sister and I all went to sleep later that night while my dad was out at a meeting. My mom, knowing my dad would be home in just a few minutes, didn’t think she needed to lock the doors before she went to sleep.
Now we’re all asleep and my dad pulls into the driveway. The first thing he notices is that our garage is open, and his bike is standing outside. Then he turns and looks into the house. Standing in our kitchen is a man.
My dad doesn’t realize what’s going on. At first, he assumes that one of his friends had come over, wanted to borrow his bike, but was waiting for him to come home so he could ask him. Then the man inside our house sprints out the back door.
My dad starts to chase him, but stops. He knows we’re inside, and he wants to make sure we’re OK.
So now we’re all gathered downstairs, and we notice something. The intruder walked into our house, and the first thing he would’ve seen is the kitchen table. On the kitchen table were three wallets, all untouched. Then we look over and see the plate of brownies, completely destroyed.
The man who had broken into our house skipped over our valuables and went straight for the brownies. At the time, I was more disappointed by the fact that we didn’t get to finish them than scared that we had kind of been robbed. Obviously my mom and dad were pretty freaked out, and they bought an alarm system for the house, and my dad didn’t sleep for a few days, but other than that, the only thing we lost were some brownies.
I was home midweek one time because my company gave us our dept the day off after pulling some all nighters. I was just sitting on the coach playing on the internet when I see a shadow across the back sliding glass door. I thought it might have been the neighbor’s dog who likes to come visit for treats every so often but I wasn’t in the mood so I ignored it. Then I get up to get something from the bedroom and happen to look in the hallway bathroom and there’s some dude trying to climb in through the window. I quickly run over and yank his leg down so he smashes his balls on the window sill. He’s yelling while I’m screaming bloody murder, hold his arm and just start wailing on his face, ribs, ears, etc. I shove him off and he just takes off running. I laughed at that one.
In 2003, I had just turned 18 and was kicked out of my house. I worked night shifts at Mcdonalds and moved in an old house (basement suite) with a guyfriend. I slept during the day obviously, since I did nightshift. Anyway, one day, about late morning, my roommate was at work and I was in bed. I could here an engine outside and then some fickling around the front door.
Somehow they had broke in. I could here them quickly and frantically moving around. I was completely frozen. I literally could not move. I decided to just keep lying there… facing the wall, not making a sound. Then my heart dropped, I heard my bedroom door open. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I heard silence for a couple seconds, then footsteps running out the door. As soon as I heard my front door close and the engine start, I ran out and saw a van speeding away. By the way, they stole absolutely nothing. We had nothing of value. My bedroom was a mattress on the floor in a tiny closet area.
Last year, I went out shopping for about an hour at 8 pm or so. When I came back, it was very cold in the house and I wasn’t sure why so I started looking around. The back door had the window broken and it was unlocked.
Checked for my computer, missing. iPad? Missing. Then I went upstairs to my room to see if my PS3 was taken, and I catch the fucker in the act. He was shorter than me, and looked really young, maybe a high school student. The first words out of his mouth were “please don’t hurt me”.
I asked him to give me back all my things and I wouldn’t call the cops. He gave all the stuff back, said sorry and handed me $20 for the inconvenience.
2 people came in and one held a gun up to my head. I knocked it to the side and said ‘shoot me bitch’.
The other guy held a gun up to my friend’s head and I let them do their thing, robbing me of about 5 grand. being 20 years old this was a decent amount of money. Same year also had someone throw a brick through the window of my house and get inside but as far as we can tell the dog chased him away.
This year an asshole tried to rob me at knifepoint and sliced me when I wouldn’t give him anything. My dog ended up biting him in the ass then chasing him into a little pond and swimming after him as he cried for me to call my dog back.
One night about 7 year ago, Just moved in to my new home. The neighborhood was a good place no major crime. About 2 months after I moved in, I hear a huge bang at 2 am at the door and then a loud redneck voice. I am in bed (I sleep nude BTW), my first reaction is to grab the sword near my bed, and charge to the living room yell. The look on the guys face was priceless, a 300+ plus lb nude guy, with a sword yelling at the top of his lungs charging him. He GTFO asap, tripping over him self, and fell in the yard while running. Call the cops, put on some pants, and waiting on the cops to get to me. Once they arrived they had already had some one in custody, saw him trying to break in another home down the street. I confirmed it was him. Once trail came and pasted found out he was on meth, and looking for a abandon lot to crash in.
When I was a little kid our house was broken into. We didn’t catch anyone in the act and I don’t remember what all was missing. I do remember maybe a couple weeks later — my folks were moving my brother’s dresser and behind it they found his plastic piggy bank slashed open, all his coins stolen. My mom lost it. After that, everything was locked up and even now, 30 years later — I double and triple check that doors and windows are all secure before leaving the house and repeatedly question myself when I go out of town.
I live in a joint family system. My house is at the top and gas just finalized construction and this is the night we moved in. I’m at the ground floor, with my sister, and three cousins, and their parents. We’re all laughing and having fun watching tv when a masked guy with a gun walks in.
Now I’m scared shitless because this is Pakistan, and I’m an in closet atheist so I think he’s come for me. Instead, he beats up my uncle and starts asking them for money and jewelry. They go out of the room to look while this one guy watches us. Everyone is dead quiet, we are all kids in here. Aside from that one guy laughing and making jokes. He’s nice. The others…..not so much.
One comes in and says that they are from Afghanistan and that Pakistan has helped the U.S. destroy their country. So he is going to rob Pakistan. When we said that we obviously aren’t form the government, he says the army did it. I freeze. My dad, whose at the top floor is in the army. He has been deployed at the afghan border once.
No ones children are on the same floor as the parents and nobody knows what’s going on. I think our floor is the only one, and when they take everyone’s phones I thank god my nexus is in my room. Uncle comes back with mean thief. They didn’t find enough. Apparently someone told them that we had gold bricks hidden somewhere. This is where I start to calm down. They’re here for money. Not for me. He then tells the nice guy to shoot ME to get them to talk. We manage to talk him out of it. Though then they take my eldest cousin, and tell his parents if they don’t cough up more, they’re never gonna see him again.
After a bit more beating and searching they decide to leave. My dad comes down after they’ve left to check on everyone. He’s hurt pretty bad. Whoopie my nexus is gone. Thankfully didn’t touch my ps4 or ps3. Everyone is safe, though they were about to take a hostage. Also one of my cousins was apparently crying and begging the gunmen not to kill him to the point where the thief had to reassure him they are not. So yeah. Later police tells us one of them was killed in a showdown at another house when one of the neighbors called the police. My mother is traumatized by the incident. That’s pretty much it.
When I was about 8 years old my family and I were away on holiday staying at a motel. My parents had their own room, my sister was in the single bed room, and i was on a little fold out bed in the living room.
my parents went to bed early telling me to lock the sliding door before i went to bed then my sister went to bed shortly after. I forgot to lock it and went to sleep in my fold out bed located in front of the door.
Next morning woke up my parents wallets a bag and some cash was gone. robber came in through the door stepped over me when i was sleeping went into my sisters room stole her bag then went into my parents room stole wallets and cash from bed side table then walked back over me and were on their way Out.
Scary to think what he would of done if any of us had woken up but couldn’t sleep for a week after that and always concious about locking doors.
In college I had these neighbors upstairs that were a gay couple. One night we all were coming back, drunk from the bar. They went upstairs to their apartment, and I went to mine. Moments later after walking in I hear them upstairs screaming bloody murder. I see a guy in a jumpsuit running by my window and I ducked in the closet and called the cops. Evidently they walked in and saw a guy with a knife in his hand going through their shit(he must have just got there as he hadn’t found anything to steal yet). When my neighbors screamed, they told me the intruder got spooked, screamed and ran out of the apartment scared shitless. When the cops showed up to investigate, my neighbors got several possession charges (weed), and the younger one got an underage drinking charge. I felt pretty terrible, but I didn’t know what was going on.
My story isn’t too dramatic but I remember when I was a kid, about 4-5 years old, someone broke into my house and stole my babysitter’s purse.
She was downstairs watching TV while my brother and I were having a nap. I was awake at the time and walked out of my bedroom, asking if nap time was over and saw the guy just down the hall in our kitchen. I remember him having short dark brown hair, average height and build, goatee, about 40 years old… When the guy saw me, he got spooked and ran out our back door.
As far as I’m aware, the police never caught the guy but he didn’t get away with very much. Maybe forty dollars in cash and a credit card or two at most.
I had just moved into my first apartment and was in the process of moving in. The door that led into my apartment locks itself automatically when closed.
So, I was going to the entrance of the apartment complex to get my mail while talking on the phone with my boyfriend. I returned to my apartment and sat on the bed while opening the mail while using the phone, I dropped the phone on the floor and it landed under the bed so I had to lie on the floor and stretch for it. I saw something that caught my eye, there was someone under my bed…
My eyes widened and I choked the urge to scream. The person under my bed was lying still with his back towards me and his head to his chest, so I couldn’t see his face. And he didn’t see me, trying to be rational while so many thoughts rushed through my head, I picked up the phone, said “Sorry I dropped my phone, I’m just gonna take a shower and call you back.”
The bathroom is right by my bed so I hastily walked in, quietly locked the door, turned the shower on, jumped out my window (my apartment is on the first floor) and called the police. They told me to wait nearby, but to go to across the street and see if anyone comes out the door to the apartment complex. This was during summer and it was still light out, I placed myself across the street, hiding behind a car while watching my open bathroom window and the entry door. I called my boyfriend and he came to me just before the police. I gave them my keys and they went inside. Only moments later two cops came out holding a thin and tired looking man. His eyes looked crazy, but he didn’t try to get away. The policeman that had stood beside me and comforted me while the police searched through my house (I was a mess, shivering and crying) told me that the man stood outside my bathroom door with one of my kitchen knives waiting for me to come out.
This man had somehow crept in my entry door while I was getting my mail and hid under the bed.The man that was trying to hurt me turned out to be a homeless person and was placed in a mental hospital. My boyfriend moved in with me the very next day.
In 1975, my dad was 11 years old and living in Leeds with his mother and step father. And for some pocket-money he would do a paper-round every morning, extremely early. He left the house in the dark (being October) as usual and went to collect the papers, setting off to take his usual route through some playing-fields (essentially a public park, but not a very well kept one). But this morning was a particularly dark and gloomy one, and as he approached the cut-through he usually took, there seemed to be something off about it, so much so that it genuinely freaked him out just to be there. He decided to take his time and go the long-way around, just to avoid the park, and thought nothing of it for the rest of the morning. When he got to school after his paper round, everyone was freaked out, and in quite a state. And upon asking his friends what was going on, they told him that a woman had been murdered with a hammer, and stabbed in the neck earlier that morning in the same playing fields that he decided not to go through, and on the same pathway too. Probably just a major coincidence, but a very lucky one at that, because the time he was on his round was the apparent time the crime was happening. This turned out to be the first of 13 gruesome murders committed by the notorious Peter Sutcliffe (AKA The Yorkshire Ripper).
This story takes place in 1977. The cast of characters includes my mom, my dad, my brother, and of course, the serial killer.
My brother was little at the time, and had been at a friends house. I don’t remember what the occasion was, but my parents were picking him up. It was late at night, winter. My parents pick my brother up, load him into their car, and start driving home. As they are leaving the neighborhood to get to the main road, they see a man come out of the woods with a shotgun, and get into his van on the side of the road.
Now, the area I grew up in was suburban, but the folks can be rather redneck. Seeing someone come out of the woods with a shotgun is worrysome, but usually just means it was a poacher.
Dad just keeps driving. The man gets into his car and follows my parents onto the main road. Still nothing to be worried about. They make a few turns on the way home, and it becomes increasingly obvious that the van was following them.
They pull into the housing plan we lived in, which was mostly new construction. The van pulls into the plan behind them.
At the time, our house was the only finished, occupied house on our little cul-de-sac. The street lights hadn’t even been turned on yet. Pitch black. Winter. Cold. Isolated.
The van pulls into our driveway behind my dad.
Dad gets out of the car, sends mom and brother into the house and tells them to lock the door. He waits till they get inside, then he walks up to the van. Stands at the nose of the car, and just stares at the man inside. Waits. No questions, no bravado, no nothing. He just stands there and waits. Intimidatingly.
Now what you need to know about my father at that time. He had a full ride scholarship for football in college. Dropped out and decided that it would be “fun” to join the military and volunteer to go to Vietnam instead, because he was “bored”. Spent a year on some God forsaken little island at a ranger camp. He is an intimidating man, and always has been. Without being overly tall or large, he has a presence. You just don’t want to fuck with him. He is now much older and somewhat overweight. But in 1977 he must have been something, because without any words being exchanged, the man put his van into reverse and just… drove away.
The story doesn’t end there though. The next morning it was all over the news. A man had been murdered the night before, in the housing plan my parents picked my brother up from. Just a street away, a man had been shot through his living room window with a shotgun. Died on the floor while the wife tried to flee. Kids asleep upstairs.
The wife leads the man through the woods on a chase. They find her body a few hours later in the woods. The same area where my family saw the man come out.
Turns out, it was Edward Surratt, serial killer.
My dad used to tell me this story (although I didn’t know the grisly details until I was older) as one of those “listen to your gut” lessons. The setting is small town Indiana, early to mid 1970’s. My dad is middle school/early high school aged. His house was about 6 or 7 blocks from the school, so when the weather was nice he would walk home from school.
One day on his walk home, he noticed a guy in a van driving by him slowly. It was a bit strange, but he thought nothing of it. Then it happened again and again. Eventually the guy driving the van started yelling things at him, usually asking him to buy drugs. This is when my dad recognized the guy as Roger. Roger was about 9 years older than my dad but my dad was friends with one of Roger’s relatives so he knew who he was. Anyway, the cycle of Roger following my dad for blocks as he walked home and asking him to buy drugs continued for who knows how long. My dad always got this gut feeling that something was deeply off about Roger. He was so afraid that when Roger yelled he wouldn’t even respond, he just stared at the ground until he reached his house. The walks must have seemed like they took forever. My dad was one of those kids who seemed to grow a foot taller over one summer so he isn’t sure if Roger stopped because my dad became more physically intimidating or if he just moved on, but either way he was glad when the interactions stopped.
Fast forward to Valentine’s Day, 1977. In a different town, still small and remote, a woman is at home with her son and 3 stepsons. Roger and 3 other men break into her home with shotguns and force her and her boys to lie face down on the floor. Roger and the gang threaten and taunt them for hours before shooting them one by one. One of the shots partially blew off the wig that the mother was wearing. Roger thought her skull had blown off and, assuming she was dead, stopped shooting her. She survived, later describing hearing a horrible noise as she lie there, and then realizing that she was hearing the blood drain from her son and stepsons. She described it as “almost like a waterfall.”
Roger and gang got away with a whopping $40. But it was never about robbery, it was about the thrill of taking human lives. The mother eventually identified Roger and the 3 other men as the perpetrators, with Roger being the ringleader. Indiana didn’t have the death penalty at the time, so each man was sentenced to multiple life sentences. Roger recently died in prison.
I know that it’s unlikely that my dad would have been murdered by Roger had he gotten in the van or bought drugs from him, but the fact that he was so close so often to someone who was capable of doing something like that is unsettling.
Back in 1998 i was at second grade and was coming home from school alone for the first time. (i had a bit overprotective parents since i lived only about a block away from my school) I was stopped by an elderly woman who said she had something to tell me. She said she had no husband, had lost her son years ago and just wanted to give me a hug. Something about this woman got me the creeps and now later on thinking she did act, talk and look really weird. Almost like she was a man dressed in old womens clothes. But This could be just my then juvenile imagination playing around. After asking me for a hug she reached her hands towards me in the motion of one waiting for a hug, i took off and ran as fast as i could, all the way home. As i ran i think i heard her laughing really loud with a really low, manly tone. When i got home i told my mom about this, but she wasn’t worried at all and told me that she probably was only an old and lonely woman who just needed a hug. Here in Finland we have this magazine called ‘Alibi’ which has the most recent news about burglaries, thefts, murders, rapes etc. And for a reason an 8-year old like me was not allowed anywhere near that kind of a magazine. But a few weeks after that incident with the old “woman” i did get my hands on one of those magazines, which was a brand new one. I read about an incident that happened in the area where i lived. It was about a boy, my age, last seen by his friends, hugging an old woman and walking somewhere with her just to be never seen again. The case is still unsolved today. I think i have escaped being kidnapped and/or murdered or something. I still remember this today, 15 years later and it still gives me the shivers.
When I was younger I lived on an estate of houses that backed onto a huge field where many people walked their dogs, it was even used as a cut through to the next neighborhood, which would take approx 25 minutes to walk though.
When I was about 13 my neighbor and I decided to camp out for the night in my back garden, which apart from a 6 foot wooden fence, was completely open to the field, albeit with 20 trees around the fence. Seeing as we were into action man figures at the time, we decided we would make the tent a hideout, so we got together some branches and one of those army nets to put over the tent to make it a bit stealthier, we also put the tent in the corner of the back garden which had a small roof over it, which made it very dark once the sun went down.
We did the usual thing, ate loads of crisps and sweets before we decided to try and get some sleep in our well hidden super dark tent. Around 4am I woke up to the sound of some one landing, and then walking on small stones, I then realized that below the fence my mum and dad had decorated with some gravel and flower pots, at first I thought it was our cat, but it was far too loud to be such a small animal, I slowly sat up trying not to make too much noise from my sleeping bag, then I heard it again.
I once again tried to make my way to the front of the tent silently, and looked through the zipper, about 10 feet away from us, there were 2 guys dressed all in black crouching under the window sill of the kitchen talking to each other, I immediately froze and had no idea what to do, they proceeded to creep closer to us, looking for more windows or maybe an entrance, because we were in the corner of the garden, we were quite close to the path that led down the side of our house where there was a door into the adjoined garage, I heard them talking quite clearly as now they were less than 5 feet away from me and my friend who was still asleep.
They were talking about being unseen and just taking whatever they could find in the garage instead of breaking into the House and disturbing anyone. I had no idea what to do, so I rang the house phone which was pretty loud and waited for some one to answer (took a while as it was very early) as soon as the phone rang the 2 people bolted to the fence and hopped over, My dad then answered and I whispered for him to get outside ASAP with a bat or something. Nothing happened in he end, but I am glad my friend slept silently!
This happened about 3 years ago when I was 18. My housemate and best friend at the time (we will call him R) was browsing Facebook when he came across a profile with his picture and a name that was not his. He noticed this fake profile had stated they were from our area (Australia), and was in a relationship with some girl from America (we’ll call her J).
So R decides to add J and tell her that he was the real person from the picture and that she was in an online relationship with a fake profile. J doesn’t quite believe R because the fake profile had more friends than R and somehow seemed more legitimate, so he offers to video chat with her to prove it.
They get on Skype with each other and she is shocked to find out she was being catfished by this fake profile. I was home at the time and R calls me over while he’s still on Skype. As soon as J sees me her face goes pale and she sends a link through to another fake profile with my picture. Apparently mine and R’s fakes were previously engaged with 2 children. Upon doing some further research we discovered some scary stuff.
We found about 20 more fake profiles, all of our close and extended group of friends. All of these profiles were active and were posting the exact same statuses as we all were. It was like a fake community of all our friends, they all interacted with each other and posted regularly, copying and pasting every single one of our statuses to post on their profiles. We thought this was really weird, but the most frightening part was that they knew exactly where we were at all times, even if we hadn’t posted about it. Me and R went to Dreamworld one day, hadn’t posted about it, hadn’t told anyone we were going, and there on our fake profiles was a status saying how much fun we were having, tagged at dreamworld. That was just one example of the several creepy statuses posted about our location. It was then that we realised that whoever this person was, was following us.
This continued for a few weeks. We tried calling the police but predictably, they couldn’t do anything. We tried in vain to contact Facebook and get the profiles deleted. We started to get scared and tried to work out who this person was, they had to have most of us as friends on Facebook because a lot of us were private, and they couldn’t have seen our statuses unless they were friends with us. No luck. We couldn’t work out who it was. We were terrified. This person was following us, and posting our whereabouts when we had told no one.
One day, it all just stopped. The profiles were gone. We never figured out who it was, and the whole thing remains unsolved. It was a really weird experience for both of us.
Alright so this isn’t paranormal, there are no demons or ghosts or women with oranges in this. It’s just a really weird thing going on with a weird kid in my weird apartment building that has continued to freak me out to a ridiculous point.
So, I live in this apartment complex in Pakrsville, British Columbia. It’s a small town on Vancouver Island. The building is fairly nice, mostly families and older people. I’m probably the youngest person living here on their own.
So each floor has four apartments. Mine is in the back of the building, on the second floor. As the title suggests, this has to do with my peephole. I noticed pretty early on that the peepholes in this building were crazy wide angle. Like, when you look through it, you can see pretty much the entire floor.
Call me paranoid, but anytime I go out to the kitchen to get a drink at night, I always look through the peephole. I always have anywhere I’ve lived with one. I dunno, I guess it makes me feel more aware of what’s going on — just in case there’s an evil ghost murderer with oranges waiting for me, I’ll have a heads up.
The people who live directly across from me is a middle aged guy and his wife. I’m not sure who lives next to me, but the apartment next to the middle aged guy is a woman and her little girl, I’m bad at judging ages, but I’d guess around 10 years old.
So one night I look through my peephole, and to my surprise, the little girl is standing outside of her door. just standing there with her back to it, in a night gown type thing.
I find it really weird considering it was about 2 AM, but there she was, just standing there.
I half considered opening the door and asking if she was okay, but then she opened the door and went back into her apartment.
After that I checked the peephole more frequently, and soon enough, a few days later the same thing. It was a little earlier, I think around 12:30, but she was just standing outside her door, plain as could be. She looked around a bit and then went back in.
The very next day, I look out my peephole, and she’s standing in front of my fucking door. Not like, up against it, she’s in the middle hall, but she’s FACING my door. It scared the shit out of me. So I’m just standing there watching this creepy little kid standing in front of my door at something like 2 in the morning.
Then she went back to her apartment.
She’s done this THREE more times now. Just standing there, facing my door, in the middle of the night.
What the fuck? I’m too chicken shit to speak out and ask her anything, but seriously. Why is this little girl staring at my door in the middle of the night…?
When we lived in California, we were not poor but we would be lost if a pay check did not come in. Because of this, we went to the laundry mat once a week. Remembering back on it, it seems like a place where you could film a B-rate slasher film, but that was not my concern. What had my attention was not the humming and buzzing of the washer machines and dryers or the unnatural white light from the fluorescent bulbs. It was the arcade corner. Once a month, my mom would give me a dollar and let me duke it with Metal Slug. After getting my butt handed to me by the forces of evil, I asked my mom if she had any extra quarters, which she replies with a “Do you think someone is going to give you free money?”
I angrily go back and just watch the flashing screens of Marco destroying everything. Shortly, a man shows up. I remember him clearly because he was wearing an old army BDU jacket and was well built but had eyeliner and hoop earrings. The whole time he had this menacing grin that almost rivaled that of the Joker’s. I avoided eye contact and repeated in my head, “Stranger, danger” several times. He then whispered to me, “Want another quarter?” At that moment my head turned to him and “Yes please!” came out before I could respond.
I starting destroying evil and when I would die he would put in another quarter. He put him hand on my shoulder and started massaging it. Before anything else escalated, my mother saw the man groping my shoulder, and immediately dragged me by the ear saying I forgot to take out the crayons from my pockets and they ruined a pair of jeans. I guess she didn’t want to cause a scene since we were the only people with Sergeant Drag.
I’ve never been a girl who has scared easily. I routinely watch crime shows, horror movies, etc. However, a night in March 2005 changed all that for me.
I was attending college for music in 2005 and had recently seen one of my favorite violinists. Inspired, I had asked a pianist friend to accompany me while I played a piece.
Looking back, it wasn’t smart on our part to go at night to the college’s music practice rooms, which are nearly soundproof and separated from the rest of the building. I figured since it was across the street from the campus police HQ, we must be OK. Was I ever wrong.
My friend and I are in a practice room for about 15 minutes when she looks at me and says, “Don’t freak out, but there’s a guy with a mask on behind you.”
Now, this is college. There are plenty of stupid people doing stupid stuff there. When I turned around, I realized this was something much more sinister. There crouched on the other side of the practice room’s glass door is a thin guy about 5’7″ or 5’8″ wearing a blond curly wig, the Groucho Marx glasses/nose combo thing, a hideous shirt (just a personal judgement) and the creepiest smile ever. That’s right, no pants or underwear … just his small penis out.
When I turn around, he waves and then enters this tiny practice room. My friend and I try to remain calm because we honestly don’t know what to do. Then this guy tries to strike up small talk with us and mentions he heard me talking about my favorite violinist. Apparently he’s been standing outside the practice room the entire time. He knows our names, where I had gone that day, where our hometown is, my guy problem at the time, etc.
As soon as possible my friend and I book it out of there. He was blocking the door most of the time so we were really scared. As we’re leaving he says, “Let’s do it again, (my name).”
Of course we go to the campus PD immediately and they think it’s all pretty funny.
The next day I’m sitting in choir when the dean comes in and says, “Hey, a friend of your cousin stopped by today. He said he wanted to give you some CDs of (my favorite violinist). He asked for the girl who plays violin with your first name so I assumed it was you.” I tell him what happened and he’s furious because the campus “security” didn’t do anything.
That’s when the stalking began. He soon was clever enough not to go by the music office again, but my dorm neighbors would tell me a guy was looking for me to give me some kind of gift. One time a stack of CDs from various violinists were sitting in my assigned seat for choir. Another time they were outside my door. All the while the campus security doing nothing. Some people even suggested I should enjoy the attention.
Things died down when I finally moved off campus and stopped all together when I moved away from the college town. Until two years ago when I moved back to the same town. The first week back, I received a direct message on twitter saying, “Glad you’re back in (city name). I’ve missed you. Let’s get together and listen to (violinist name).”
I reported it to the real police who haven’t caught the person to my knowledge. All they knew is the address came from somewhere other than my city. Part of me is still waiting for the knock on the door or a “present” left at my work or home.
Due to illness on both sides of my family, I have always lived with either my grandmother or her daughter (my aunt). There have been several times before my grandmother’s passing that my aunt had lived with us to take care of her and help around the house.
I must have been around 6 or 7, and my aunt was living with us along with her daughter who is 3 years older than me. I don’t fully remember the layout of the house but I know that I eventually ended up in a room that had to be walked through to get to the bathroom.
At the time my aunt had been in a pretty serious long term relationship with a guy who’s last name was Waters, and he’d come over pretty frequently. I remember him being well liked.
One night I believe I was playing a video game in our living room when I hear a lot of commotion coming from the stairs that led to the 2nd floor…
So, what had happened was that Waters was caught by my grandfather in my room. My grandmother was in the shower, and apparently Waters had pulled aside my dresser which was against a wall shared by the bathroom, and poked a hole through so that he could watch people while they were showering.
My grandfather caught him and literally threw him down the steps, and I never saw him again…but there’s no telling how long this was going on and who all he was watching.
Late last year I had my 21st birthday. Along with celebrating with my friends, my boyfriends mom wanted to take me out as well. So his mom went ahead and reserved a table at a bar in Downtown for Saturday night. Saturday night comes and there’s major traffic (but it’s always packed in Downtown on the weekends so this is expected). His mom and I park in a toll parking lot and we have to walk about 5 blocks to the bar where we are going to meet my boyfriend and everyone else at. So, we start walking and arrive at a crosswalk we have to wait at. There’s maybe 8 other people standing at this crosswalk with us. I’m just patiently standing there minding my own business, when suddenly I notice this girl standing next to me. She startled me to be honest. One, because of how she seemed to appear out of thin air. And two, because of how close she was standing next to me. It almost felt as if she was trying to huddle into me. Like you know when a little kid is shy and will try to hide behind his/her parent? Yea, that’s how she was, except she was just leaning into me and she had her shoulders hunched over.
Her hair was black and long, at least down to her waist. She had on a long striped dress that went down to her ankles, a leather jacket, and sandals. She looked to be around my age. But she had dark tan skin, and black eyes. Her attire was normal, but she didn’t act normal. She was being really weird and kept plugging her nose, as if she was smelling something bad. And she kept skittishly looking around, as if she expected something to pop out and grab her. To be honest she was acting like a scared animal, but her demeanor was cold. Her eyes felt like they were dead and empty. And her face held no emotion. So, not liking how close she got to me, I took a few steps to the side. And guess what? She stepped towards me and got as close as she was the first time. What. I sort of thought that was weird, but gave the situation the benefit of the doubt. Plus the crosswalk light turned green right after she came close to me, so I figured I didn’t have to deal with her because we would walk our separate ways right? Wrong. She walked across the street and first few blocks with me. Staying the same closeness she was at. No matter where I moved to.
No matter how many times she almost got lost in the crowd of people, she would scurry up right next to me again. All the while plugging her nose and looking around everywhere. She made me feel weird. My boyfriends mom at this point confronted the girl saying, “hey do you need something? Are you ok or what?” To which the girl responded, “It’s not safe.” After she said that she slowly lifted her head, cocked her head slightly and looked me dead in my fucking eyes. Her mouth quivered. My boyfriends mom and I just looked at each other like What. The. Fuck. At that point I just wanted to get away from this weirdo, it was bad enough she wouldn’t stop invading my space and following me. But now she’s saying this weird ass shit while looking at me? NopeNopeNopeNopeNope.
Boyfriends mom pulls me to her and whispers to me in my ear, “walk faster and don’t look at her, I want to see if she’s following us.” So that’s exactly what I do. And guess what? SHE FOLLOWS US ALL THE WAY TO THE BAR. Despite my boyfriends mom telling her to, “please stop getting so close to us”. She responded with, “I want to stay with you guys”. Despite taking unnecessary turns to see if she would turn to follow us. She would. I was freaking out internally all the way there. We finally get to the bar. Whip out our ID’s as quickly as we can so we can get inside and away from the freak following us.
You guys. She followed us inside, and sat our table.
But she sits at the furthest side of the table. http://i.imgur.com/mgFkQ1I.jpg And she starts to scoot herself over. But she only moves over when we look away. You turn your head and BOOM she’s managed to hop one seat closer to you. And she’s just staring the whole fucking time with this fucking blank expression on her face. http://i.imgur.com/c49vQFL.jpg My boyfriends mom has had it at this point and gets up to tell the bodyguard to make the girl leave. The bodyguard comes, tells the girl she has to go, and she actually starts to argue with him! I didn’t catch the whole conversation over the loud music but I caught the girl asking him why she had to leave and saying that she can sit anywhere she wanted to. She began to get really aggressive once he told her that this table was reserved for us and our group that she was not a part of. She got all fussy and looked at me with malice before she got up and stormed out. But she didn’t leave right away. She stood outside, looking in at me through the open patio at the front of the bar. She wasn’t moving and seemed to care less about the hustle and bustle of the people around her. She stood there for about 15 minutes before finally leaving to God knows where. There was just this really bad and dark feeling that I got from her. She made me really nervous for some reason, and she just felt…..wrong. I mean she was probably someone just cracked out on drugs, but it was super creepy and I hope I never see her again.
Edit (for confusion): in the second picture look on top of the candle, and you will see half of her face. It’s only half her face because a menu book is obscuring the view.
So I work at a sandwich shop.
Anyway, I was getting ready to close at 10pm and I’m pretty meticulous about closing on time because I’m usually ready to go home by then. Anyway, it’s 9:55pm and the bell rings, letting me know someone came in. I grumble a little because I’m tired and head to the front. This little boy, probably 7 or 8, is standing in front of the counter. He’s wearing this old fashioned (tweed?) jacket and a red baseball cap.
I say “Hello, what can I do for you tonight?” like I usually do. He just stares at me like I grew a second head. I stare back, confused.
“I have to use the restroom.” He says and runs back to where the restrooms are. I hear the door squeal open and slam shut.
At this point I’m a little aggravated because I’m getting ready to close and I don’t wanna have to wait on this little brat whose parents couldn’t even be bothered to come in with him. So I start to close: I turn off the open sign and head to the back to do some quick dishes thinking I’ll just lock the door behind the little boy when he leaves. I finish the dishes and start to put the food in the refrigerator.
I’m starting to get pissed. All I have to do is put the food away, count the bread, and count the drawer. I finish all of this and still no little boy. I put on my coat and get ready to leave, gathering receipts and such. I go to knock on the door of the boy’s restroom.
“Hey, I’m closing, you need to leave.”
“Hey, kid, come on.”
“If you don’t at least answer me, I’m going to open the door.” The lock was broken, so I knew I would be able to open it. I stood there, worrying that maybe something happened to him.
“Kid?” I jiggle the handle until it opens. I kind of cover my eyes, because I didn’t really want to see a little boy on the toilet. I expected him to scream or at the very least ay something. When all there was was silence, I looked into the restroom the size of a small closet. There was no one. No sign of anything. The lid was still lifted from when I had cleaned it earlier. No trash in the bin.
“What?” I check the girl’s restroom and the entire lobby, nothing. No where in the entire shop. And there is absolutely no way that he left. It’s impossible that he left because I’ve worked there long enough that the doorbell is a Pavlovian response. And you can hear it clearly everywhere in the store.
I went into work a little early the next morning and get my check. My close friend was there and she and I talked for a little about her boyfriend and gossip that she had and whatever.
Then she says, “Dude, there was the creepiest little kid standing outside the front door this morning when I came in.” (We come in and leave from the back door)
“Yeah, he was just standing there staring in the window. But when I went to open the door, he ran off.”
“What did he look like?” I ask, trying to keep from freaking out.
“Boy, grey coat and red hat.”
Neither I nor anyone has seen or heard about him since. What the fuck.
My parents used to have a friend from high school who they have since told me they all thought was “a little strange”. We’ll call him Rick. My mom said that he was a really nice guy, not “red flag” weird, just a bit odd. They had vague knowledge of abuse in his family, but at that time abuse wasn’t something people really talked about, it was considered “personal family business” so I guess they just chalked his oddness up to childhood trauma or something. Their group of friends were all pretty close, enough so that it wasn’t weird when Rick would show up at our house just to hang out. My mom told me that sometimes if my dad wasn’t home when he stopped by, he would just hang out with her and little baby me until he got back.
The year they all graduated high school, a woman attending the university in our city went missing & about a month later her body was found. The police reported that the woman’s body had probably been there a couple of weeks by the time it was found. Her killer was never caught.
A few years later, when I was a month old, another female student of the university went missing. Our local police department still has her case open because she was never found. She was pronounced dead after being missing for about 10 years, at the request of her family. Around the time she had gone missing, I think there began to be some suspicions surrounding Rick within their social circle. No actual evidence that he may have been involved or anything, just more of a feeling they got that something was going on with him, and they just found it a bit eerie seeing as how it was at the same time this woman was missing. He had previously asked my dad if he could store a truck topper in their barn. my mom told me that she once went to look around out there, just to be sure (of what, she never really said. She wasn’t looking for anything specifically, but she just felt a need to inspect the area a bit. She didn’t find anything strange or out of place).
18 months after that, a third woman was abducted. After being taken to a house in a tiny town outside our city & chained to a bed, she was then taken to a bridge over the river, hands (and possibly feet?) still bound, and thrown in. She somehow swam to the riverbank and was able to call the police.
She identified her abductor to the police, along with the house she was taken to. It was Rick.
The police went to his house to arrest him, and as they were climbing the stairs, he shot and killed himself. During the investigation into the the two prior disappearances, they discovered that he had taken off a week of work during the times that each of the other two women had gone missing.
This took place when I was 11 or so, still in elementary school. This specific event took place after school one day toward the end of the school year. My bus stop was at the very end of my very big neighborhood, and it was a good 15 minutes of winding down several roads to get home. I would always walk with a group of older kids that lived near my house, but this particular day I got off the bus first so I was far ahead of them.
I was about 5 minutes into my walk when I noticed something. A man, about 30 or so, was walking behind me. I brushed it off as someone walking to the park or something. About two minutes later, I noticed he had gotten faster, which alarmed me, so I started walking faster. The faster I got, the faster he got..
I was almost on a long road that is the third to last road I go down to get home when I noticed the guy was still there. As I turn to look at him he starts sprinting at me. I turned and started running as fast as my short legs could. As he kept gaining ground I hear something. Foot steps. A group of them. That’s when I notice a group of highschool kids walking toward the corner I was headed for. I decided if I got to them it’d scare of the man, so I ran as fast as I possibly could.
As I got about 10 feet away the man stops running and basically throws himself into some bushes. I run up to the group of teenagers and explain to them what happened, and they looked around the general area for the man but he had flee’d.
They walked with me until I was a street away from home, and when they left I noticed a man walking down the street toward me. It wasn’t until he was about 20-30 feet away that I recognized him as the same man from earlier. By that time, the group of teenagers was long gone, leaving me on my own again.
As he got in touching distance, I bolted. I ran as fast as I could toward my house when I noticed he had started running after me, with some grin I could only describe as evil. I reached my house and ran to the front door, hoping it was unlocked so I wouldn’t have to get the spare key from the pot next to the door. As I get to the door, I noticed my dad’s car coming down the road. I guess the man noticed too, because he immediately ran past me and my house as if he were on a run.
I stood there shaking and crying until my dad pulled up, and promptly explained what happened. To this day, despite being in highschool, I’m still not allowed to walk home. I still remember what the man looked like that day. His clothes, his grin, his facial hair. It haunts me.
A few years ago, I went to London, England to attend college. During the time that I stayed there, I had made friends, gotten a job as a bartender, and you know, the works. Just a typical college student.
One day, one of my co workers, and dear friend, Gina, decides to have a few people at her place after work. Her house was within walking distance of the bar we worked in, so we all decided to make a night out of it.
At around 2am or so, I thought it was about time to go home. And let me make it clear that I was not drunk. I was, however, exhausted, since I had been working a 12 hour shift.
I called the cab company that I normally call and requested a cab pick me up at the bar, and drive me back to my dorm. No problem, they’ll be here in about 5-10 minutes.
I walk to the bar, and wait in front for the cab to show up. The cab pulls up in front of me, and calls over “You waiting for the cab?” “Yes, thank you!” and I hop in.
My dorm is maybe a 5-7 minute drive away. No big deal. Would only cost me around 5 pounds to get back. The whole way home, though, this cab driver is putting his hands all over me. I usually joke around with cab drivers so as to avoid an awkward car drive, and it’s always harmless. But anytime I laughed, and lifted my hands, he would try to hold my hand. Every so often, he would try to put his hand on my thigh, in which I would remove it, and move slightly more towards the door.
At that moment, I get a phone call. “Hello?” “Hi, this is Tony, I’m here to pick you up.”
Around that time, there seemed to be, what it looked like at least, a big issue with unmarked cabs picking up young women, raping them, and leaving them. There were commercials about it, there were ads about it at bus stops. Needless to say, it was definitely something to be looked out for.
So when I got that phone call, my. Heart. Dropped. “…I’ve already been picked up…” I looked at the driver, and the whole time, the driver is asking me to “give me the phone, let me talk to him, give me the phone, let me talk to him, give me the phone, let me talk to him”
Luckily, the REAL cab driver on the phone was very kind, and told me to listen to him carefully. If he takes me anywhere, to call him, I have his number now. What he was was an unmarked cab. Recently, I guess, some people were able to obtain fake marks for their cab or something like that (bear with me, this was quite a while ago), to make it appear like it was actually a marked cab. Either way, this guy was an unmarked cab, and he had just stolen someone’s cab fare.
I ended up being dropped off at my dorm. The driver asked me “how much do they usually charge?” I said “2 pounds.” He drove off without so much as a goodbye, never to be heard from again.
My dad left for a few months for a job in another country. So it was just my mom, my little sis, who was a baby, and me (5). I remember this vividly. My mom hated staying home without my dad. Said she didn’t feel safe.
The house itself was very secure. It was fully fenced and had 2 entrances, the kitchen and front entrance. Each entrance had 2 doors internal door solid wood, and external door solid iron. All of the windows in the house were plantation style shutters. They open and close when you turn the little knob thingy. These were made out of some sort of steel and iron combo.
I would sleep with my mom in her bed and my little sis in the same room in her crib. My mom used to lock the door and push a dresser up against it. She was/is very paranoid.
The night my dad left we started to hear crinkling of leaves. We had large trees in the backyard and piles of leaves on the ground. My mom let out a scream and thought that it would scare whoever it was off. It didn’t. We kept hearing the crinkling and mom kept screaming. The phone was in the living room (early 90s no cell phones). The house on the left was too far from us to hear her screams. The one on the right was an old couple who couldn’t do anything for us.
During this time in my country you had to wait until morning to call the police station. And even then, these people didn’t have a phone. We were trapped.
I remember the absolute terror I felt. My teeth were chattering so bad I was worried they were going to crack right out of my skull. My mom tells me that was something that has always stayed with her, the sound of my teeth clacking.
At one point she opens the shutters a little to try to see if the person is still there. The light in the bedroom was on, a beam of light shines across this person’s eyes, She recognized him immediately. It was one of my dad’s acquaintances. She knew it was him because he has very distinct eyes, bright green and cat-like.
She loses it and grabs a shoe and throws it really hard at the window (in the area where she saw him). This was a clog type shoe against steel shutters. I cannot accurately describe how loud and jarring the sound was.
This was the longest night of my life. It went on for hours. This dude fumbling around in the dark trying to get into our house. My mom’s guttural screams for help. We waited him out…till dawn.
My little sis actually went into shock. She was a REALLY cranky baby who would cry at the slightest provocation. She did not cry once the whole night. I remember looking over at her as this was happening and her standing in her crib, all big watery eyes and silent.
The next morning my mom says FUCK THIS and starts packing up all of our stuff. She says we’re going to move in with grandma until my dad comes back. On our way there, we take the bus(Greyhound-like) because my mom doesn’t have a license. Guess who’s on the bus………….ding ding ding………Creeper!
He just looked at her and smiled. Didn’t say hello or anything just smiled with a weird glint in his eye. To this day my mom swears that this dude thought he was gonna get another chance (possibly the following night)……but mom NOPED us the fuck out of there. She was worried that he was going to figure it out because we had luggage with us. He didn’t. He didn’t even know where my grandma lived.
Years later when I talked to my mom about it she told me point blank “had he gotten into the house, he was gonna rape all of us.” She says this dude used to look at me a lot when I rode my bike in the neighborhood. He also eyed her and my baby sister.
This encounter happened to a friend and co-worker of mine, about 15 years ago, in a suburb of Los Angeles, CA. My friend (I’ll call her Jodi) lived with her parents and older brother in a house in a pretty nice neighborhood, and they didn’t really worry about crime, break-ins, etc. One night, though, at about 2:00AM, Jodi was woken up by a loud knocking at the front door. She jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway, where her parents and brother were coming out of their own rooms.
The knocking, now a pounding, continued. “Stay here,” said her father, and made his way toward the door. All of a sudden, there came a muffled male voice shouting, “Help me! Help me!!!”
Jodi and her mom grabbed each other in fear, and her dad looked out the peephole. “There’s nobody there,” he said. He looked out the front window, where you could see part of the front door and porch. He still didn’t see anyone. He walked back toward his family, when the loud knocking began again, this time even more frantic. Again, a voice shouted “Help! HELP ME!!!”
Jodi’s dad went to the phone and called 911, and while he was talking to the operator, her brother had walked up to the front of the house. The pounding was still going on, getting faster and faster until it was a constant banging. “HELP ME!!! HELP ME!!! OH GOD, HELP ME!!!”
Jodi, in tears of fright by now, looked over at her brother, who was standing in the family room, which was located to the left of the front door. His face was white, and he made an arm gesture for them to join him. Jodi, her mom, and her dad (who was off the phone with the police by now) hurried into the family room, where they immediately realized why her brothers’ face had gone pale. The pounding and shouting was coming from UNDERNEATH the family room floor!
The police arrived minutes later, and it turned out that some guy in his 20’s had gotten all out of his mind that night on crack, and had somehow made his way into the opening of the crawl space under the house, located underneath the family room window. They never found out exactly what his intention was, but they assume he was trying to find a way into the house to rob it, but then got disoriented because he was so high, and freaked out–hence the pounding and shouting.
I grew up in a city in Pakistan and i would pretty much tag along everywhere with my dad. There was this one big grocery store that we would always go to, and usually i’d just go to the candy isle when he was picking up the “boring stuff.” I must have been around 11 then, but there was this guy who used to work there (i’m guessing late twenties) and every time i would come to the store i’d notice him staring at me and then following me around the isles. At first i ignored it, but then he started “accidentally” brushing past me. So the next few times i just stuck with my dad. But this guy would literally follow us around and wait till my dad got busy and i was alone.
Anytime that we made eye contact this guy would give me this weird smile. I still get the creeps when i think about it. And he’d sing songs, increasing his volume when i refused to make eye contact with him. This kept going on for a while, until i stopped going to that store unless i absolutely had to. One day, i was reluctantly dragged there by my dad, and while we were there, he met some friend of his, and they were chatting etc. so he told me to go grab some daal (chickpeas) from the isle and meet him at the counter.
The minute i got to the isle, the creepy man was there and he was smiling in that way again. I said nothing and quickly grabbed the packet but he was just standing in my way (the isles of the store were tiny so i couldn’t get out) and then he goes, “Mujhey choti larkiyan bahut achi lagti hain” ( i really like young girls ) and he started singing a song again. I just stood there frozen, and then he pinched my back and left the isle whistling.
When I was teenager (~15 years old), I was on the phone with my boyfriend at the time and hanging out on the computer. The house I lived in at the time had giant windows on the first floor, like 8′ by 8′. I was in one of the rooms with the huge windows and had opened the drapes to let some light in. While talking to my boyfriend, I had this super eerie feeling that I was being watched and I slowly turned towards the window and saw a man in tattered clothes with sweat dripping off every part of his body pressed up against my window with his hands cupped over his eyes and gave me this horrifying smile.
I immediately dropped the phone (I was on a phone with a chord) and ran into the next room and grabbed the chord-less phone. I told my boyfriend what was happening and I started crying trying to remember when all of the doors were locked. The man had to crawl over a few bushes in order to get that close to the window which made me feel like he didn’t have the best intentions. That’s when the doorbell started ringing. I poked my head around the corner to see the front door (french doors with glass panes) and see the man trying to get in the house by opening the door.
At this point I’m absolutely freaking out and my boyfriend tells me to call my mom. My mom answers at work and she told me to hide and call the police. I called the cops crying and then noticed out of the corner of my eye from a window in the back of the house that the man is making circles around my house looking for a way to get in. The dispatcher told me to get somewhere where he couldn’t see me and get a weapon if I felt like it would make me more comfortable. I grabbed a long chef’s knife and stood sobbing in a small gap between my back door and a hallway where I couldn’t be seen through any windows. Then I remembered that a first floor window was unlocked and I couldn’t see or hear the man anymore.
Eventually I hear a loud rap on my door and slowly go investigate it and it’s a policeman. He asks me to come outside with him so he can look in the house and make sure the man didn’t find a way in. Right after we get outside, my boyfriend’s step dad pulls into my driveway (my bf had called him to come check on me – bf was out of town) and lets me sit with him in his car while the policeman, gun drawn, checks out the house.
The cop never found anything, no trace of the guy, no nothing. I was terrified and scared to stay home alone for quite a long time after that. I still freak out when my doorbell rings and I’m not expecting anyone, and I’m terrified that I’ll find someone else staring at me through windows whenever I’m alone in a place with ground-level windows.
Back in the ’60s, my dad worked as a guard at a prison near Miami. He described his most memorable experience to me recently. He says that there was one prisoner who was a lot like a younger Hannibal Lecter. Very calm but very menacing. He always kept his cool no matter what, but there was something threatening about him.
Well one day, Young Lecter was able to start a riot on his cell block, purely by motivating the other prisoners into a frenzy. He didn’t participate in the riot at all, but he got every other prisoner to start a fit in their cell.
My dad and a few other guards were called down to the cell block to quiet them all down. He says that when he got down there, every prisoner was screaming and throwing themselves against the walls of their cells, and shouting profanity and insults to the guards. That is, every prisoner except Lecter. He was the only quiet one on the whole block. My dad came up close to his cell, and this guy was standing near the back with his hands folded, staring my dad directly in the eye, and muttering a random sequence of numbers with a strange smile on his face. My dad stood there, trying to figure out what the numbers meant, and then it finally hit him. The prisoner was reciting my dad’s home phone number on repeat.
Real Home Invasion Stories Where A Gun Was Used
Eight Year Old Saves His Mother
When I was 8 years old we lived out in a farm house in an orchard, the nearest “town” was about ten minutes away and my dad was working far enough away that he stayed away during the week. One morning I heard my mom yelling and I thought I had missed the bus so I got out of bed and saw a naked man hitting her and trying to grab her, he was out in a bender and had just walked to the nearest lights and broken in, our dog was barking and nipping at him but she wasn’t a trained attack dog or anything. I ran back into my room and grabbed a little .22 bolt action my dad had given me and the ammo he made me keep separate and loaded it, it seemed like it took forever to load those 5 shots. I ran outside following the dog barking and saw him dragging my mom by her hair, I remember trying to be steady like I had been taught but I just fired over and over again, I didn’t know it at the time but 3 of the 5 hit him and he was later found by the police after someone dropped him anonymously at a hospital about an hour away with one of the bullets lodged in his lung.
At that age I had a hard time processing it mainly because the state mandated I see a counselor and she kept insinuating I should feel all kinds of emotions I wasn’t, which made me feel like there was something wrong with me. In the end I just feel lucky that I was brought up by parents who trusted me and spent time teaching me never to panic.
Teen Stops Home Invasion
This was back in 2003, I was 14 at the time. I was visiting my aunt & uncle in Texas for my 2 week christmas break. We were all supposed to go out to my cousins baby shower but I came down with the chicken pox. Being young at the time, I didn’t want to go anyways. I convinced them to go without me. Ended up playing halo for a few hours in the master bedroom when I heard a window shatter and the alarm start going off. I remembered that my uncle kept a gun behind the TV so I grabbed it. It was some kind of revolver, no idea what kind. All I know is that the hammer was really hard to pull back.
What seemed like 5 minutes later I hear someone coming up the stairs and yelled at him to go away and that I had a gun, Being so young though I had the voice of a little bitch and the guy probably thought I was bullshitting. When he got to the top of the stairs I fired once and the recoil made me drop the gun, But I think I hit him somewhere since he fell backwards down the stairs. I never found out how the guy died, but I hope it wasn’t from the gunshot. I called 911 and some time later the police came.
It turns out that this guy got out of prison a few days before. The guy was a drunk and managed to hit some delivery guy on a bike during one of his drunk driving routines, my uncle was his defense attorney, Turns out that its pretty hard to defend someone when there is security camera footage of you running some guy over and driving away. Guessing that he blamed my uncle for the 5 years he spent in jail and decided to get revenge.
Back in 2012 two men busted in my back door. It took them a few minutes as it was a metal door on a metal frame with sturdy hinges and a lock. One of the guys was probably 6′ 6″ and pretty large; he was finally able to break it off the hinge with a crowbar. When I heard them start hammering on the door I told my wife to call the police and lock herself and our baby behind two doors and I went out into the hallway with a shotgun. I kept yelling at them to leave and that the cops were coming and that I was armed – they kept coming. Eventually I heard a pop and the banging stopped and I knew they were through. I told them in no uncertain terms that if I saw them in my house, I was going to kill them.
A few seconds later they came around the corner both holding what appeared to be weapons and I shot the bigger one twice in the chest. The other one just stood there confused, probably trying process what in the hell had just happened. He took one step towards me and I shot him as well. Police showed up about two minutes later – both died at the scene. One had a knife and duct tape, the other had the crowbar. I later found out that the larger one was wanted for some sort of manslaughter charge because he killed his girlfriend a state over.
I have zero regrets about that night. They had multiple chances to leave and I have no doubt that they would have hurt my family if I had not stopped them.
Wife Beater Meets His Match
This was about 2004-2006. I don’t remember the exact year anymore.
I killed a guy that tried to break into my apartment because he was wanting his wife that he had just beat the shit out of.
2am. I hear them arguing. I could hear it through my bathroom wall. I shut my bathroom then bedroom to drown it out.
2:15am. She’s banging on my door, broken nose, left eye swollen, and limping from tripping and falling to get out of the apartment. Told her to go to the bathroom, clean herself up, then hide in my bedroom.
Husband comes out of the apartment, yelling her name, and he notices her blood trail to my apartment. Starts banging on my door, yelling to let him in. I warned him 3 times that he doesn’t stop, I will kill you. He kicks the lock on the door, door swings open, and I swing my baseball bat down onto his head.
He falls to the ground stunned. He lands stomach first and I see a handgun tucked into the back of his shirt. I grab it, throw it into my apartment, and warned him one more time.
He got up, came at me, I slam my bat into his stomach, then slam my bat over his head one last time which caved his skull in. I knew from the blood spatter from when I hit, he was dead. Thankfully, the neighbors had called the police when it started and the second he fell to the ground dead, police had made it to the top of the steps.
It never affected me as much as it should have. I reacted the best way I could for the situation I was in.
I don’t think about what I did anymore. I can’t fix the past.
Four On One
I was jumped by 4 guys about 10 years ago. I was down on the ground and they were kicking and punching me. I grabbed my knife from my pocket, reached up and stabbed one of them in the stomach. Blood everywhere. some mine, mostly his. they all ran. One of them yelled back that he would find me later and kill me. He later died at a hospital because he took too long to get help.
Basically I never really felt bad about it and I don’t regret it. It has popped into my head randomly from time to time and it weirds me out that I took a persons life but thats about it.. doesn’t last long. My thoughts about it are that I was protecting myself and whether or not they would have killed me I feel it was not just justified but exactly what I should have done.
Senior Year, Off Campus Invasion
My senior year of college, I had an off campus apartment in a really shitty part of town. I often went to the batting cages with my roommates just for fun, so we each had our own baseball bat.
It was a Friday night and I heard a bang at the backdoor. I honestly thought it was just one of my roommates who had locked themselves out drunkenly. Well I get down there and there’s a guy in the kitchen wearing a ski mask. I just grabbed one of the baseball bats and swung at this guy as hard as humanly possible.
Well I hit the guy square in the head. He fell back, broke down the sliding closet door. Two of my roommates came running out, and I was just standing over this guy, who was profusely bleeding on our kitchen floor. One called 911 and the other one took off the guys ski mask and we tried to stop the bleeding with it. At this point the lights were still off and I didn’t actually realize how much blood was everywhere.
Two cops show up what felt like an eternity later, and then an ambulance wheeled him off. He died not too long after that. Our last roommate showed up while police were still taking statements. He just walks in and gives us this look like “what the hell happened?” And I just said “I broke your bat, I’m sorry”. He didn’t really give a shit about the baseball bat, I just didn’t know what else to say.
None of us slept that night. We just watched south park on Netflix and all called out of work the next day. I remember there was a lot of disbelief. I mean I couldn’t believe that had just happened. Never felt bad about it though. I did often wonder for awhile what led that guy to break into our place.
I do however own a .22 revolver now.
A Father And Husband’s Worst Nightmare
Back in 1995 I lived in a quiet neighborhood in the SF East Bay with my wife of a few years and our 20 month old daughter. We had a small 3 bedroom two story house, and one of our second floor bedrooms doubled as my home office. One quiet Saturday morning I was in my office playing Command and Conquer on my computer with my headphones on, oblivious to the sounds of the outside world.
I’d probably been playing for an hour or so when, during one particularly quiet moment, I faintly heard my wife cry out downstairs. Knowing that she was down there with our daughter, I pulled my headphones off to see if she needed help with anything. Until the day I take my last breath, I’ll never forget what I heard when I pulled them off. I heard the voice of a man, with a thick Mexican accent, shout, “Quit yelling bitch, or I’ll fucking cut your head off and fuck your fucking daughter!” My daughter was crying hysterically.
After that, it was like some switch was thrown in me and my higher brain just shut off. I wasn’t making decisions. I just acted. I don’t even remember pulling the .45 from the lockbox in my desk, I just remember walking down the stairs slowly, scared as hell that I was going to see my wife dead when I reached the bottom. Instead, when I reached the bottom, I saw my wife half naked, bent over the couch, bleeding from somewhere in her upper body, while being raped from behind by some burly guy with a knife in his hand. He wasn’t TRYING to rape her, he was in the middle of the deed and was probably nearing climax.
I never said a word to the guy. Not while I was upstairs, not while I was coming down the stairs, and not when I walked into the room. His back was to me, so he had no idea I was even standing there.
He was holding his knife in his right hand, so that was the arm I grabbed with my left when I pulled him off. He spun away from her and me with a confused look on his face, and I shot him square in the chest at nearly point blank range before he had a chance to say a single word. His face went pale as he went onto one knee, and I fired twice more. One hit his neck, and the second missed entirely. I was told later that the first shot was the fatal one.
What happened next has always been a point of shame for me. The only thought going through my head at that point was that I couldn’t let my daughter watch this man die. Without even checking on my wife, I scooped my daughter up and walked out my front door. As I walked out to my driveway, I saw one of my neighbors standing there staring at my house (he’d heard the gunshots). The poor guy went pale when he saw me walk out, and I vaguely remember asking him to hold my daughter while I went and checked on my wife. The neighbor asked me if I’d shot her, and I told him, “No, I shot the man who was raping her.” I didn’t realize at the time that I had the guys blood spray covering half my body, and that I looked like something out of a horror movie. I then handed him my daughter and my gun (I also have no idea why I gave him my gun), and went back into my house to help my wife.
The police and DA gave me some flak about the exact circumstances of the shooting (one of the detectives told me that it was more of an “execution” than a “defense”), but in the end they declined to pursue any charges. The man who attacked her turned out to be a guy with serious mental issues who had been previously convicted of two violent rapes, one of which was against a 9 year old girl. Under California’s then-new 3 Strikes law, he’d have gone to prison for life if I hadn’t killed him.
As for recovery; I like to think that I’ve recovered from it, but it certainly induced a few behavioral changes. To this day, for example, I can’t wear headphones that block out background noise. Even after years of counseling, over-ear and noise cancelling headphones give me panic attacks because I can’t hear what’s happening around me. I found out later that he’d been raping my wife for nearly 10 minutes before I heard him, and that he’d actually told my wife THREE TIMES that he was going to rape my daughter when he was finished with her. I was sitting 30 feet away and had no idea it was going on, and that fact has fucked with me for years.
My wife had a much worse time of it though. In addition to two stab wounds to her shoulder and upper arm, and the bruising and injuries from the forceful rape, she ended up having a mental break and took years to really recover. For the first 6 months, she absolutely could not be in any room by herself. For more than a year, she couldn’t be in a house by herself (and she NEVER reentered the house where this happened). For several years, she’d break out in a sweat when she heard men with deep hispanic accents talking, because she’d hear his voice again. Even now, decades later, she starts shaking if you try to talk to her about it. She’s fine in every other sense, but even discussing it freaks her out.
The Dark Side Of New Orleans
I got assaulted in an alley in New Orleans 20 years ago. The guy hit me in the back of the head, cut me a few times with a knife, put the knife to my throat and told me that he was going to rape and kill me. I choked him to death. Felt his windpipe crumble in my hands. I’ve had PTSD ever since. Constant nightmares. I see his face turn red, blue, and purple. I hear the crunch of his windpipe. I feel him struggle against me. I have scars I see every time I get out of the shower. I did what I had to do and don’t regret it but killing a man with your bare hands is a lifelong struggle.
An Inside Job Gone Wrong
My house had been robbed twice while I was at work. One day I had to call out sick and while I was sleeping I heard someone downstairs. I called out “Who’s there?” When we’re sick, our supervisors come to see if we’re actually home, but I was worried because they always knock first, and I was sure I didn’t hear any knock or doorbell.
I heard footsteps running up the stairs and I called out that I was armed. My supervisor definitely would have stopped, but the footsteps got louder. I got behind the door and two men charged into my room with guns. I moved my arm and they turned around. I shot one of them in the neck while he shot the wall behind me, the other man ran downstairs.
It turns out I shot my coworker’s cousin, who knew my schedule of when I wasn’t going to be home. The coworker was not in on anything. The other man was the cousin’s friend.
I was not charged. I do not feel guilty because the last two months made me feel very violated. I changed jobs because I was uncomfortable working with people who knew about it.
Suicidal And Fearless
Happened about a decade ago. I was walking back home and these 2 kids tried to rob me. I don’t necessarily know what age they were, but they were somewhat short (I live in a country in which the average person isn’t very tall) and pretty scrawny. I was pretty deep into depression that had me at a point in which I didn’t really care about much of anything.. and was contemplating suicide constantly, so as weird as it might be to say, I wasn’t particularly scared, which is probably why he kept getting even more agitated.
Both were probably on drugs, one with the gun was yelling more and more and for some reason I reached out for his gun, in the struggle the gun fired twice, both times he got shot and died. The other one started yelling for his brother, charged me with the knife he had, I shot and kept shooting until the gun ran out.
Called the police, they couldn’t pretend to care less, two junkie kids on drugs, yeah. Would probably be different in the US.
At the time the only thing that freaked me out was the fact I wasn’t freaking out. I kept thinking I was some kind of monster, yet was mostly indifferent towards it.
A year later after I got on meds for my depression and it felt like it crashed on me pretty hard. Got heavily into drinking.
Graveyard Shift At The Gas Station
I work graveyards at a gas station in that grey area part of my town where a good neighborhood is immediately bordered by an extremely bad one, so I see all sorts of shit, both good and bad.
A couple years ago (4-5 now maybe? I usually try not to think about it.), I was in the back room stocking, and hear the front door open, so I come out face first into two younger guys running in with guns drawn. I carry, but I’m not the idiot that thinks he can draw, ready, aim and fire before someone with a ready weapon kills me, so I put my hands up and stop moving. Guy 1 keeps coming and grabs me by the back of the shirt while Guy 2 peels off and starts grabbing all of the Newports and scratch tickets. Guy 1 puts the gun to the back of my head and brings me around to the register area, where I open the register. He pulls me to the back of the register area by the cigarette display and his friends moves over to empty the till.
While they’re changing places, Guy 1 says “Hurry up blood let’s merc this fool” (or something very similar), and gestures with his gun in such a way that I got a look at it. He. Had. No. Magazine. His friend may have, but he was facing away, on one knee, with his weapon stuffed in his rear waist band with his fucking comically long shirt over it. Unfortunately for them my CZ-75 compact most certainly did. I smacked Guy 1 in the head with right hand as hard as I could, and drew while shooting upwards at him. I wasn’t really aiming, just fired twice into center of mass from just above my hip. First round caught him in the upper sternum/collar bone area, and the second caught him in the base of the neck and travelled upwards through his skull, before finally ruining the Marlboro light display with bits of his head. (Oddly, those cigarette cartons with the red on the white and gold are my clearest memory of that night.) I spun towards Guy 2 and fired three more times, catching him once in the upper abdomen and twice in the chest.
I immediately called 911, and then proceeded to sit on the floor in silence for the ten minutes it took them to get there, shaking. After all, the adrenaline was wearing off. All said and done, I was questioned for about twenty minutes, and my weapon was confiscated for the duration, but other than that and ~a month of nightmares I was fine. Nightmares stopped once the detective in charge of the case let me know that I was wasn’t the first store they’d robbed, and killed or severely beaten the other checkers. Then I was just glad that I’d removed trash like that from the world. Can’t hurt anyone now.
I was in an incident where I shot and killed a squatter during an eviction. In all honesty, he shot me first, and I dont really remember all the details which is probably a good thing. I was also present with a marshal at the time, so there wasnt much of a report to take.
I think about it sometimes, especially when my shoulder hurts. Hard not to honestly. I’m alive, and he isnt, and at the end of the day I feel pretty good about that. I never knew his name, or why he fired his weapon at me instead of just walking out peacefully. He’s probably in an unmarked grave somewhere in Michigan, and that doesnt bother me too much. I don’t intend to end up like that man.
“He’s Gonna Rape Me”
Having lived in a more dangerous neighborhood growing up, I was taught as a teen gun safety and was at the shooting range regularly with my dad and brothers. One day I arrived home after college to find someone going through my things in my bedroom. He came at me with a knife as soon as he saw me. I pulled my gun out of my purse and shot him in the chest.
It happened so quickly, all I could think of was the knife and his proximity and that he had physical advantage over me and I needed to do something before he got within arms length and could use his strength to rape me. I didn’t take time to aim, I certainly didn’t intend to kill him. I wanted him to not be able to come near to me.
I don’t regret pulling the trigger. I do have nightmares about it and what would have happened if i didn’t have a gun that day.
In regards to the “he’s gonna rape me” mentality. I live in South Africa, where some believe (incorrectly) that sex with a virgin cures AIDS. There were a number of reports of rapes in my neighborhood at the time.
Home From The Army
Was getting out of the Army a few years ago. I took my wife and kids home early in order to focus on getting out and finish selling the house before I completely left the area. I left both of my cars at home with my wife (had a buddy who was also leaving the Army, drive me around) so there was zero cars at my house. Anyways, the front door opened to a hallway to go to the kitchen and backdoor and the stairs to go upstairs. I was sleeping on the floor in the master bedroom where the top of the stairs led because all my stuff had been packed except for a few knick knacks… and my .45 S&W M&P.
Three guys broke in that night, shattered my back door (big center window in door) which woke me up. I didn’t have much to take.. but my laptop and tv was the only thing downstairs. I heard them talking.. heard them say stuff about not having much and taking the laptop and tv. Then heard them talk about looking upstairs. As soon as I heard the first step creak, I yelled out that I have a gun. No movement… then they pretty much bum rushed the stairs and into my room. I shot the first guy in the neck, his buddy took a shot at me and missed where he then was shot in the shoulder. The third guy rushed back outside and left his buddies. The guy shot in the neck was dead instantly, guy with a gsw in shoulder was withering in pain. Kicked their guns down the stairs and called 911. Cops were there in about 10 minutes. Took my statement, took my gun and offered an ambulance. Don’t think they ever found the third guy also.
3 years later and I think about it from time to time. What bothers me most is that I didn’t kill the guy I shot in the shoulder so I do fear he could find me again and also… that the house was nearly empty.. so that dude lost his life over nothing. I’m pretty much fucked in the head from deployments and such.. so this just adds on to it. I just smoke a lot of weed to deal with it.
Being Too Nice Will Get You Robbed
Well, I was sitting in a gas station parking lot when a man knocked on my passengers side window. I was waiting while my friend grabbed some beer and he had just walked in. I live in an area with a lot of homeless people and being the too nice person I am I rolled the window down to give the guy some of the change sitting in a cup holder. He pulled a gun on me and unlocked the door to get in. I had a gun but it was in an awkward position. I had never had to pull it before so I didn’t really know how well it would work but it was the most reasonable place I could think of, not to mention I was a newbie gun owner at the time (left side in the cup holder on the door). You never really know what the best course of action is until it happens to you.
I do exactly as he says and pull away. I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen but I was scared shitless and I really hoped he wouldn’t see my gun. We end up pulling into an old dark parking lot.
To give a little context on why what happened next happened how it did, I drive a little kia soul stick shift and it jumps speed bumps. Like jumps them. I see one and at this point the guy isn’t really paying attention to me so I put my foot to the floor, jump this speed bump, he hits his head on the roof and his gun falls in my lap so I grabbed it and pointed it at him.
At this point I expected him to get spooked and get away but I was wrong. The guy had a pocket knife and he pulled it. He stabbed me 2 times before I could get a shot off. Everything went dark and that’s all I remember.
When I woke up I found out he died in my car and I actually shot him 2 times. It turned into a huge legal battle because the gun was stolen and he had drugs on him. Everyone thought it was a drug deal gone bad. I’ve dealt with it for years and to this day I’m still not the same. My family disowned me because of it. Ive also turned into a hermit that lives in the woods away from everyone because I don’t trust anyone. It can get lonely sometimes but its alright.
The one question I saw a lot “why did your family disown you?” They thought I was dealing drugs along with the rest of the city. I lived in a small Southern town where everyone talks at their tea parties and spread the rumors/drama. Also, my friend at the gas station is the reason I didn’t get locked up for murder. He testified and I got out of trouble. It still took forever. I mean, it was a death not just a gunshot wound. Everyone had a lot of questions and didn’t feel they were getting the answer they wanted to hear.
Female Student Refuses To Be Raped
I am female, 5’2 and weigh a little south of 100 lbs. I’ve always been on the smaller side and I used to always have earphones on. I was always decked out in “nicer clothes”. Looking back, I was probably an easy target.I’ve always grown up on the “greener grass”. My parents are both successful and I’m an only child. It was a huge culture shock for me when I decided to go to college in a not-so-safe area. My school is a fairly high ranked private school in probably the worst location of SoCal. Really high crime rates & all that fun stuff.
I was walking to my apartment after a long day at the library – it was around 1 am or so. I normally drive, but that day I had lent my roommate my car so I decided to walk to school instead. I could’ve taken the shuttle, but I figured I should exercise and all that fun stuff. I was young and reckless.
I think I was about 10 minutes away from my place when I noticed I was being followed. I didnt think much of it, so I kept going. There are a lot of homeless people in the neighborhood and they’re fairly harmless, so I figured it was one of them panhandling or something. What I didn’t know was that there was someone else in front that was “following” me too. The cops said they had planned it from the start – I wasn’t a random target. They were herding me to a location they wanted me to be in. I dont really remember how it happened, but I turned the corner and everything went black. When I woke up I was sitting on the floor of the alleyway in the corner and there were about 3 guys towering over me. Two of them had a knife and they told me if I screamed they would make sure the cops wouldn’t be able to identify my body.
I remember them grabbing me by my hair and dragging me further down the alley, and being forced on the floor on my stomach. One of them held on to my hair and my hands so I couldnt move my head and I felt strong pressure on the back of my calves & thighs. I imagine they were probably stepping on my legs so I couldnt move. I remember crying and choking on my snot & tears while trying not to make a sound. I also felt something really cold on my neck – I knew it was the knife so I kept quiet. They rummaged through my bag and took everything worth while, and threw the rest in the giant trash bins. Whoever was stepping on my legs bent down and started patting me down to make sure I didnt have anything on me that was worth stealing. They took my iPod, iPhone& around 200 in cash from my pocket. I felt really strong pressure on my side after that knocked the wind out of me – I felt like I was going to die. I imagine they kicked me. I couldnt curl up into a ball and cry though, they were still holding on to me. The part after that is a blur – I remember one of the guys saying “lets bounce” and another voice saying “lets have some fun with this asian bitch”. I think there was a small debate whether or not I was asian (I’m half) but I dont really remember. I think my adrenaline kicked in when I felt pressure on my lower back and someone pulling down my jeans. I started flailing and screaming then. They kicked me a lot more and cut my shoulder from my flailing. I think that scared them – they weren’t really planning on hurting me. I got an arm free and grabbed the knife by the blade. I remember it stinging and thinking “YES”. It was more of a “I’m still alive” than a “yes, I can hurt these guys”. I managed to wrestle the knife away from the guy holding my hair and tried to stab him. I felt some pain in my back (which later turned out to be stab wounds).
What they don’t tell you in movies is how hard it is to stab someone. I think I tried to stab his legs, his arms, stomach, anything I could reach. I couldn’t fully get it in but I knew he was hurting because he kept screaming. I think when I realized I had done something was when I felt the knife slide in and the other guys yelling and running. When there was no more pressure on me I looked up and saw that I had managed to stab the guy in the eye. He stopped moving and just fell. I don’t know if he was dead then – I want to imagine it was the shock that caused him to pass out. I started screaming and crying and yelling. I think I passed out too. I remember waking up to sirens and going to the hospital. I had multiple stab wounds and had to go through intensive surgery. I also had 3 broken ribs, a fuck ton of fractured bones and all that fun stuff.
A couple days later the detectives on my case told me that the guy didn’t make it and that they were sorry his shitty ass couldn’t rot in prison. I just remember thinking “Good, I hope he rots in hell.”
Refugees Take Advantage Of A Disaster
Attempted carjacking by two “refugee” fucks in the wake of a massive natural disaster. Far enough away to avoid being completely destroyed, but close enough that practically all law enforcement and EMS were sent out of the area to assist in the worst spots. Rather unscrupulous individuals took advantage of this. Waves of people fleeing the worst of it, no electricity, awful heat, break-ins, theft, rapes, lady down the street found with her head stove in; pleasant time.
Made a run into town to obtain some supplies, and was hauling gas and food back to the house in a pickup. Probably should have covered the bed, but in any case, got jumped at a stop sign by two guys, one with a machete and the other with what looked like a HiPoint handgun. Both waving their weapons about and screaming “Get the fuck out of the car” and related pleasantries.
Fortunately, the Glock was right in the door. Felt like time slowed down, remember seeing the gunman’s eyes widen at the sight of it. Shot the gunman in the stomach and chest and hit the other in the chin. Bled way more than a deer would, the teeth were a rather unpleasant sight, and they never really mention people shitting or pissing themselves on death in the movies. Machete died extremely fast, gunman curled up and was making some kind of noises (gunshots had fucked up hearing). Took ages for the deputies and EMS to show up, with the gunman dying shortly afterward. Cut and dried affair legally speaking, deemed clear case of a justified shooting.
Didn’t exactly shed any tears over them. When you attack someone, that is an outcome you can expect. Been more on my guard in the years since, and had random adrenaline rushes and unprovoked feelings of extreme danger present for a few weeks afterwards.
Turning The Tables Out Of Desperation
About 11 years ago (late 1999) I was jumped by two guys at a small park in Whitney, WA. It was 8:45 – 9:00 PM, I had just gotten off of work and was going to run a few laps to burn off some excess energy. The sun was just about set as it was summer time, but there was a little bit of natural light left. The park was located on top of a plateau-type land formation and there was only two ways in or out — the road leading up and a small dirt trail at the opposite end of the park. I had been there for about 15 or 20 minutes when I realized that I not only was being watched by two men, I was being ‘herded’ into a corner away from both exits.
Initially, I told myself I was being paranoid. I picked up my pace in the direction of the dirt path and that’s when one of the guys started running at me and I knew shit was really going down. I started running full tilt toward the dirt path at the end of the park. Unfortunately, he had a good angle on me and slammed into my hip/lower body and took me to the ground. At this point, my memory gets very hazy. The first guy who got to me was unarmed — we struggled on the ground for a few moments (years). One thing I remember specifically about this moment was that when you’re in a life or death situation all bets are off — I was scratching his face and gouging at his eyes and pulling his hair and was basically just going ape shit to get away. Shortly after getting tackled, the second guy arrived and he WAS armed with a knife. I was still struggling with the first guy when I was first stabbed (total of 3 times) in the right thigh. I’m not sure if didn’t want to kill me or if he had poor aim, but I was fortunate I was not stabbed in the throat or stomach.
The third time I was stabbed I thrashed and my second assailant lost hold of the knife. I picked it up on impulse and hit him with the butt of the knife in the temple repeatedly until he stopped moving. To be honest, my memory of actually ending his life is almost non-existent. It happened very quickly. His ‘buddy’ booked it after his companion went down and I was left at the park with 3 serious stab wounds and a body (this was before I had a cell phone). It was the two hours it took for me to get help that have stuck with me over the years. I remember being so so so scared that I was going to jail, being so so so scared the other guys was coming back, and overall just being so so so fucking scared.
At the end of the day, I don’t regret what I did. I was not only threatened, I was actually attacked and wounded. I simply defended myself to the best of my abilities. The long term damage mostly has to do with paranoia in concerns to be followed and watched.
“He Still Looked Surprised”
My parents went out for date night when I was 10. Got me a babysitter from the neighborhood who was 14 or 15. He’d been my babysitter a few times before. I always wanted an older brother. Both my parents worked and my brother is 7 years younger than me, so I never got to have much playtime. He and I would play video games, play with lego, stuff like that. It was a lot of fun.
This night he tried to molest me. He got on top of me and started touching me. He wasn’t much bigger than me so I was able to get away. We were in the TV room and I ran to my room on the other side of the house. I got my baseball bat and hid behind the door. When he came in I hit him in the knees and he fell down. I just kept hitting him on the ground. Don’t know how long. Eventually I ran away and called the police and told them to come over. I remember being really scared that he was going to get up and chase after me when I was making the call. Once the call was done and I went over to watch him I realized he was dead. His face was all mushed up and bleeding but he still looked surprised.
Not really recovered psychologically. I try not to think about it too much. I think about it a lot.
“Don’t Be Afraid To Get Cut”
Someone tried to rob me with a knife. I was on my way home from my shitty job at college where I got paid under the table. It was Friday and I was walking the three blocks to my house with a wad of cash in my pocket that I needed. He stepped out and waved the knife and told me to empty my pockets. My immediate thought was Fuck no you junkie. My second thought was the words of my friend, a black belt in kyokushin karate, “If you get in a knife fight don’t be afraid to get cut. It’s gonna happen anyway, just don’t let it be bad.” We were half joking when he said that. When was I ever gonna get into a knife fight?
I said “No” to emptying my pockets. He stepped forward brandishing the knife. So I threw all 230lbs of myself at this spindly man that should probably weigh 170-ish but was instead closer to 140 lbs. I did get stabbed. Honestly, with my adrenaline running I hardly felt it. It felt like a hard punch at first. I eventually tackled him, and from on top slammed his head into the sidewalk once and he went limp.
He was still alive at the time, if unconscious. The problem was actually that he actually started a brain hemorrhage (or some sort of brain bleeding) and died after reaching the hospital.
Anyway, right after he went limp and I started to calm down a bit did I realize that my side hurt really fucking bad. Far more pain than I remember ever feeling. That was when I noticed I had been stabbed. Which was weird, because I remember that when I took the slash on my arm it hurt really bad the second it happened. Anyway, I also had a trip to the hospital.
Touring The Crack Houses Of Newport News
I got carjacked almost 25 years ago in Newport News, VA when it was all the rage in certain shithole eastern US cities. Instead of just shooting me with the little semi the guy had, he had me drive him to a couple of crack houses (also all the rage 25 years ago). Dragged my ass inside to two or three, used cash he made me pull out of an ATM to buy for him, back in the car for another go around.
Seems like this went on all night, but it was probably only an hour or two. Regardless, at some point the guy started to bug out and wasn’t paying attention to me when we got back in the car for round number whatever. My tire iron was under the front seat of my car, and I flat out smashed his face in with it. Heard bone break, blood all over, the whole nasty deal. Pushed him out the door and drove home.
Honestly, I puked a bunch, got shitfaced drunk, puked some more, raged quite a bit, and then passed out. Never called the cops, never got questioned, and talked about it with only a couple of friends. Since maybe the first couple of days, when the adrenaline come-down felt like it was going to kill me, I haven’t though that much about it. It’s possible I didn’t kill him, although I doubt it and always assumed he died.
Sounds weird, but I haven’t lost much sleep over it either. I’m fairly certain he would have killed me if I hadn’t hit him. Anyhow, it lurks in the back of my thoughts, and if nothing else I know that I could kill someone if necessary, because I certainly tried to kill that guy, and to the best of my knowledge I did.