14 Insane Stories From People Who Almost Got Murdered And Made It Out Alive
You never imagine that someday some random person or a relative will try to murder you and end your life, it's something we usually only see in movies and tv shows, simply because we choose to ignore the darkness in this world and instead we exclusively surround ourselves with the happy and fun side of it, which is a good thing, but in order to survive in this broken up world you need to always expect the worst from people and never let your guard down.
When I was a newborn my biological father tried to kill me by choking me. It happened in my grandmothers kitchen and my mom bopped him over the head wth a frying pan and stabbed him with one of those hot dog pokers you use on the grill. He’s always been a real big piece of shit.
I was stabbed while bouncing at a bar. I’m not sure if that counts. I doubt the guy was really trying to kill me, though he very easily could have. It required emergency surgery to close up an artery and the knife stopped just shy of puncturing my lung. My friend, also bouncing, was stabbed over his heart, but his sternum stopped the blade. That’s probably what caused the stabber to slice his own fingers open, which lead to finding him and the conviction.
He was charged with attempted murder, along with a bunch of other things. He was convicted of at least some of those charges and did 6 years.
All in all, not bad. 10/10, would get stabbed again.
When I was 17, I had a 22 y/o boyfriend who I dated near the time I finished my secondary school education. He was genuinely amazing and I thought he was perfect as every naive young girl does, my friends warned me saying he was manipulative and abusive but I brushed it off assuming they were jealous. But I started noticing things, and I wouldn’t give him his way, we started fighting more and more.
One night we were relaxing and watching my favourite movie in my room (Robots I think it was called), anyway my boyfriend starts trying to pressure me into giving him oral. I tried pulling away but he was holding my had down into his lap, that’s when I started shouting and screaming. He grabbed my neck and threw me to the floor and began kicking me, at this point I was completely dazed and in shock so I couldn’t defend myself. After what seemed like ages I finally screamed stop, he grabbed my hair and dragged me to my balcony where he tried shoving me over the guard rail. I was fighting but I’m really small so I don’t have much strength. Suddenly something grabs me and at the same time I see my boyfriend fly headfirst over the rails. Turns out my neighbour got home early and noticed the situation unfold, he ran broke through the front door and upstairs to my room, then tossed my boyfriend over the rails and grabbed me stop me falling.
Police and ambulance were called, boyfriend was taken to hospital and charged with assault and attempted GBH. Luckily my family has cameras on the balconies and porch to catch thieves so they caught almost everything that occurred. My neighbour didn’t get charged as he acted in my defense. That was about 3 years ago, neighbour and I are close friends and boyfriend is still in prison. I realise I really should call him my ex but it seems odd in the story.
I have this mate from the States, older gent, owns a company that goes around putting change in vending machines or whatever. Anywho, his childhood friend co-owned the company with him, things were apparently really good. As it would appear, his friend was a jealous, greedy cunt, wanted to own the company all by his lonesome.
The ‘friend’ calls up my mate, asks him to help in fiddling with his car. Now my mate is a very kind guy, goes above and beyond to help a brother, gets over to his house with his toolkit and smile on his face as I can imagine although the devious little shit rigged the car up so the exhaust would pour into the car and suffocate him. The bloke knocks him out cold, chucks him in the car with it on and goes to watch telly or something.
Old mate wakes up, squirms out of the car and escapes. His mate eventually gets up to check out his dirty deed and sees him disappeared, and proceeds to send him a text a long the lines of ‘you should be asleep in the car…’. By this time he has already made it to the police station.
What’s freakier is, this obvious attempt at homiecide re-jogged his memory of a month of two prior where he went to help his buddy mow his lawn where a ‘freak accident’ cause a large piece of shrapnel to slice his cheek – coincidence? Who knows.
Needless to say, my mate owns the entire company now. Really great guy, isn’t the first time some cunt tried to off him though.
I dated the quarterback in high school. My parents hated him, but their hatred fueled me to overlook red flags and really push to make things work….to prove them wrong. I was 17. Anyway, flash forward to 19 I’m still dating the douche. I had been pushed around, had bruises left on me, lots of little shit had happened but I never told anyone. He was always terribly sorry and made it out to be my fault. I was young and he totally manipulated me because he had a weird hold over me since he took my virginity. I was going to college and living in my own house alone. I had experienced life outside my crazy small town and something in me snappend after a day of abuse. I was fucking done.
It was late November and he had just purchased me a Christmas tree. When I called to finally break up with him, he was pissed off and told me he just wanted his Christmas tree. Fine. I left it on my front porch and went to a friend’s house. I had a really terrible feeling and needed to not be home. I started getting a plethora of phone calls and texts from him. They started off begging me to talk, then when I didn’t respond he left me voice mails telling me his mother had a heart attack and he needed me.
We lived a couple hours from our hometown and he started timing his calls with what town he’d be at if he were actually driving. “I’m not anywhere near you. I just passed [name of town] and I’m so scared about my mom. Please call me.” Then 15 minutes later when he’d be passing another town I’d get the same call. He kept saying he wasn’t anywhere near me. I ended up turning off my phone and staying at my friends house until 3 am. When I got home I was careful to drive around and make sure his car wasn’t around. I ran inside and got a call on my land line. “Where have you been.” It was the absolute coldest I’ve ever heard his voice. I told him not to call me and hung up. Two seconds later my door flew open and I was thrown against my counter.
He was screaming, asking where I had been, who I was with, why was I ignoring him, etc. I started begging him to calm down. I reached for my cell phone and he broke it in half and ripped my landline out of the wall. The rest is basically a blur. He totally trashed my apartment. At one point I made it outside. Neighbors 2 doors away saw him grab my hair and drag me inside. They did nothing.
He grabbed a knife he’d brought and held it against my neck, then told me that’s not how he wanted me to go. He grabbed my face and shoved it into my couch, suffocating me. This encounter was nearing 2 hours long at this point and I couldn’t get loose and started losing consciousness. Something happened and he snapped out of it. He let go and did a total 180. He started bawling and apologizing. He hugged me and was begged me to forgive him. I told him I forgave him but he needed to go so I could rest. I told him whatever I needed to, to get him out of my house.
I immediately plugged in my landline and called 911. He started knocking on the door, crying and apologizing. I said I had just called police, and he screamed “You fucking bitch!” and left.
He pled down to false imprisonment and was only given a little community service. I had a restraining order for awhile. The second it was up he called and asked me to be a “team player” and help him get the charges expunged. Nope. Fuck off.
About 10 years ago when I was 16 my brother (at the time 21) moved back into my parents home due various drug related issues. At the time that was about the extent of my knowledge of the situation, but I’d later learned that my older brother was acting as a small time dealer and had gotten into some trouble with some sort of gang by not moving product fast enough. He also happened to have been a user of various drugs including meth (again at the time all I knew was “drug issues”). Now to be fair when he moved back into my parents place he quit using everything with exception of pot. However the usage of drugs does in fact mess with you brain, and there are effects that can linger. I guess what I’m getting at is that brothers mental health wasn’t exactly in outstanding condition.
On this particular day my brother came home from working a job, and was behaving a bit strange. It’s hard to recall all the details, but the one thing that comes to mind is him slamming a pot of water onto the stove, throwing in some noodles, turning on the wrong burner, and walking away. It was almost like he was sleep walking, but at the same time I knew he wasn’t. Being the passive/timid person I am I sort of just let him do his thing (correcting the pot/burner issue) and went back to playing on the computer.
A few minutes later I was interrupted when my brother attempted to rip the computer out of the wall and, I presume, attempt to smash it. I physically stopped him and an argument of sorts followed. Apparently the computer was evil and was corrupting me. I, an introverted 16 year old gamer, did not like this accusation that fell along similar lines I’ve been hearing for years by certain groups of people. Especially from the brother who was also formerly a gamer, and had so drastically changed from the person I had known and respected just a few years prior. He began throwing many things at me including chairs, dishes, and proceeded to tackle me while I was occupied with the chair he had most recently thrown. He then attempted to strangle me while muttering something about purging evil. That was the point I felt he was actually trying to kill me, and decided I needed to physically harm him to make him stop.
So I tossed him off me and gave him several punches as hard as I could in the midsection. He disengage and ran outside into the woods out of sight. I called my father who came home and found my brother trying to hang himself in the woods (we presume given the belt in the tree), but barely coherent/conscious. He was taken to the ER.
Turns out my brother was severely dehydrated, and coupled with his other mental health issues this caused a psychotic break of sorts. I should end this by saying we’re both perfectly fine now, and leading happy productive lives.
I’ve always grown up in a family heavily against doctors and medication. My dad specifically thought mental illness was a load of crap, and was quite abusive towards me. When I was 17 I began experiencing extreme levels of anxiety, which eventually spiraled into breakdowns and episodes of sheer terror. Not long before this, my sister was feeling suicidal. When I tried to tell my parents to get her help, my dad said psychologists are a bunch of bullshit, all depressed people want to die and that if she wants to kill herself so badly he’ll help her. I was beaten for standing up for her.
Anyway considering this incident I decided to seek help behind my parents back. Eventually my dad found out, and lost it. One day he came into my room and told me to move out, so I told him I would and that the only reason I was staying was for mum.
Then, in the most calmest, unusual voice ever, he said “Do you want to move out now.” I was baffled by what he meant, and it was only later I realized he was implying my death. He said, “Do you want to move out… right now? Here I’ll help you.”
He then proceeded to smash my whole room into pieces, he smashed two guitars over my head, threw draws and object at me with heavy force. Then he grabbed a long steak of wood that he broke off my chest of drawers by repeatedly kicking it. He held it to my neck and said he was going to kill me. I told him I loved him, he said “No you don’t, you’re the biggest mistake of my fucking life. I’m going to kill you, it all ends now.”
He tried stabbing me in the neck, only managing a small cut while I was kicking him in the stomach as forcefully as I could. He then grabbed me by my head and smashed my head against my bed, trying to knock me and and continuing to say he was going to end it all. I had my hands around his throat, choking him at which point my mum came into the room and threw him off me (he started beating her instead). She managed to get him out of my room, and so I ran out of my window and into my neighbours backyard crying for help. My neighbours freaked out thinking I was intruder, the husband picked me up by my shirt and has his fist closed like he was ready to punch me. I was hospitalized that night with only minor physical injuries.
The police saw the scene where he beat me and said its the worst they’d ever seen a room trashed. in court, the judge looked at my dad and said “Property damage is not acceptable.” He was let off with no charges and just a warning. They had used the wrong police statement.
All of this because I tried to seek help.
My older brother abused me for pretty much my entire life. Broken bones, chemical burns from supergluing my eyes shut while I was sleeping, regular burns, strangling, etc. The one instance that sticks out to me the most is when we were roughly 13 and 15, he was pissed because I was watching a show and didn’t want to give up the TV for him.
He started punching me anywhere his fists could land. I tried to escape into our room and he slammed into the door until it cracked and he could get in. Chased me through the house, managed to grab me by the hair and throw me over the banister (we had a half wall separating the stairwell from the upstairs) and I free fell an entire level downstairs. When I stood back up, he was standing at the top with a chefs knife in his hand. At that point I freaked out and tried to escape through the French doors in my sisters room but he made it outside just as I opened the door.
So I ran back upstairs with him right behind me, made it to the kitchen. We had one of those counters that wrap around and then stick out in one spot, like an attached island. That was separating us while I tried to call my mom but he sliced the cord. I threw the receiver at his face as hard as I could and ran past him while he was holding his head. I made it down the street before I noticed he wasn’t following me anymore. When I threw the phone, I shattered his front teeth and apparently shit’s excruciating when your nerves are dangling and exposed.
I called my mom and told her what happened. She told me to go back home and shed talk to him when she got home from work. Lol fat chance. I walked to my friend’s house across the highway and stayed there till my dad dragged me home.
Driving through rural Oregon with a couple of buddies on Spring Break, on a stretch of highway with one lane in each direction, we were stuck in a line of cars behind a woman who was driving a little slowly. We hit a stretch where passing was allowed so I moved over and sped up so I could get around her.
She sped up too.
I was driving a Civic with three big guys in the car so I couldn’t beat her. OK, I thought, be that way. I slowed back down to get back behind her.
She slowed down too. She wasn’t going to let me back in.
The passing lane was coming to an end and I was starting to get a little nervous. I tried to catch her eye to indicate that she had to let me in and realized she was staring at me, smiling. I looked forward and realized a semi was coming straight towards me. I jerked left, onto the shoulder of the oncoming lane, and missed the semi by a few feet. The cars behind the psycho had seen the whole thing and let me in between them, and she exited shortly after trying to kill me.
I only drive fast cars now and when I pass people I try to do it before they notice I’m doing it.
My cousin tried to drown me a few years ago. We’d been on bad terms for years; she beat me up constantly when we were kids and she sabotaged my work a few times in high school. I never fought back because she was absolutely fucking crazy and I figured she was “special”. About three years ago I dated a guy she was interested in (didn’t know she was into him) and that was the “final straw” as she put it. So she decided to kill me by dragging me into the pool in her backyard and holding me underwater until I blacked out (she’s easily twice my size/weight so it was the easiest way for her, and she could just blame my death on drowning by accident).
Anyways, she successfully held me underwater until I stopped breathing, then got out of the pool and sat in a deck chair to watch the show. My friend found me and he genuinely thought I was dead. He dragged me out of the water and did CPR, and that probably saved my life.
If you’re wondering where psychopath cousin was for that whole ordeal, she was still sitting there in her pink flamingo deck chair, smiling like Norman fucking Bates.
Charges were pressed, and insanity was pled (which was probably accurate anyways).
I do not really talk to that side of the family much anymore.
A man jumped me and pummeled me on a beach in Barbados in an attempted rape. When I attacked him in defense he tried to kill me and started strangling me. I dug my shoulders into the sand to relieve pressure and not black out. I managed to squeeze my knee between us to separate his torso from mine, he then arched his back bringing his face closer to mine and I grabbed onto it with my teeth and bit hard — ripping parts of his tongue off while he screamed.
That got him off me and running. I felt high and happy after the fact, but my bf who was running down to help me cried for hours. The real horror came after with the hospital visit and the next day reporting it to the constable. Barbados police don’t give a shit about rape and society there victim blames. Nothing was computerized and I had to write three copies of the incident to get it reported. My only consolation is that tongues don’t grow back and that mofo will remember me forever.
When I was 17, I took my HS girlfriend to winter dance. Before though, we went out to dinner in the city (Dayton, OH). There is a nice Thai place we were going to, but I hadn’t really learned my way around (and this was before pocket GPS). I ended up parking outside of the “nice” district a bit too far, because of traffic and no parking spots being open. We figured walking would just be faster.
It was snowing, we were enjoying a conversation – but I noticed a man alter his trajectory slightly towards us. Background – I’ve done Bujinkan Taijutsu since I was 14; I had learned situational awareness, and taken self defense/rape prevention courses. I’m tall, but really skinny. I saw him coming but let myself not be 100% ready.
As we go to pass, sure enough the knife comes out. Buck knife. Doesn’t ask for money – he tells us to shut up and say nothing. He looks at my date, and gives a look that tells me this is not about money. I had to decide – do I wait another 5 seconds to see what he does, or do I be stupid and rush him?
So I decided. I rushed diagonally at him, and even with my hands up he got the blade into my guard and sliced the outside of my orbital socket. Date ran the opposite direction screaming for help. I take the chance to rush into his off-swing, and he hits my ribs with the butt of the handle. I can’t breathe, or see in my right eye – but I have his neck with my thumb on the trachea, and my right hand us barely holding his arm to me ( so he can’t get the knife loose ). I apply as much raw force to his neck as my adrenaline fueled body can manage. I hear a small pop, and he fell a away fast. I hadn’t crushed it, but he was definitely feeling it. I took this time to fall back, but was so winded I could only manage about 50 feet. I’m bleeding like a faucet from my right eye, and l was certain the eye was slashed.
I slink away, and he didn’t follow. The police and my date found me on the sidewalk after some people ran out of an apartment to investigate.
I have my eye, but only about 50% of my vision. It looks only slightly like Fogarty from A History of Violence. Also, a long scar from my eyebrow to my cheek.
For about a week after, her parents and her were grateful and just so thrilled that I put myself into that to protect her. A week later she cheated on me with a guy from the basketball team, and I was just garbage to be dumped.
Moral of the story – nothing is ever good enough for some people XD.
My ex wife had her new boyfriend cut the brake lines on the driver side of my car. Her logic was that when I was heading to work, I’d have to stop at the end of the Mississippi river bridge, swerve off, and land in the half frozen river underneath.
It almost worked. Thankfully my car swerved hard to the right and totalled itself on the guard rail.
I was stabbed in the stomach during a bar fight and I passed out from blood loss. When I came to I was in the hospital, the surgeon who patched me up let me know that had I not been stabbed I could have died from my appendix bursting.
Apparently without realizing it, my appendix was perforated (and not related to the stab wound). What I thought was just some cramps was actually a life threatening time bomb, and thanks to being almost stabbed to death I got to live.