2. Stranger Danger Lingers
When I was a kid a woman came to my house and asked if my parents were home. My Old man always told me to say that my parents were home even if they weren’t. So I tell her this and she stared at me for awhile before leaving. I was just a kid so I didn’t really think much of it beyond adults being weird. She went across the street and murdered the two kids over there. The door to my house wasn’t locked or anything and nobody was home except me and my little brother and there is no way I had a convincing Poker face. This lady was just crazy and must have thought I’d be able to fight her off or something. Dunno if she ever got caught or what happened after that because we moved very shortly after.
3. Brotherly Love
I am not a writer and wasn’t the best at English and Language. There’s also a lot of spots in this story where I don’t remember and I’m sorry for that but I have a bad memory because I tend to suppress a lot of things and it tends to affect that part of the brain.
I’m pretty sure my brother tried to kill me. I know your thinking, well siblings fight all the time right? Yes, but not like this.
Let me tell you a few things to help you understand our relationship and how our lives been so far.
We were born into a domestic violence situation( his dad/my adoptive dad) was a crazy. He did tons of horrible things to my mom, brother, and me. It got so bad that a judge ordered him to leave the state. After that, my mom was constantly on the move trying to hide from him and her past. So us kids had to grow up fast. We struggled a lot with money, food, keeping friends, and the biggest thing: bullying.
My brother started out as quiet and nerdy but as he got older he tried to be the tough guy who always had something to say, also loved telling tall tales. It got him a lot of trouble.
I was a talkative kid who loved to try to get to know people, but as I got older and events happened I turned shy and quiet, shut most people out. So me and him flipped our personalities, go figure.
We didn’t have a bad relationship growing up at first. He was my bubby, I looked up to him and he was kinda a dad figure for a while. But apparently, I tattle tailed a lot. We also rough housed a lot and trust me there were many cheap shots thrown at each other. I don’t know when it started really but as he got older his hit got harder and his insults got meaner. I started seeing our banter become pretty unhealthy.
There’s been plenty of times where he’s crossed the line with me but the biggest thing I can remember is when I was about 12/13 and he was about 18/19. We lived in a small town in the united states, and it was around Christmas because I remember the dead tree out in the yard that day. My mum had gone to one of her friends up the road and had left me and my brother to our own devices. I don’t remember why we started fighting ( trust me the tiniest things set our fights off) but we did and I remember him hitting me, where is foggy, that’s not the part that stands out to me, but it hurt like hell and I remember screaming and crying that I was gonna tell mom. He got so angry, told me I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. But I didn’t care. I kept screaming. I guess he was afraid of someone hearing because the next thing I know he pushed me onto the couch and has my mouth and nose covered trying to stop the sound. I couldn’t breathe, I kept thrashing and hitting his arms to get him off but it wasn’t working. His face was terrifying. So full of rage. I started to see spots and blackness when all of a sudden he let go and I gasped for breath. I don’t know why he stopped, maybe he caught him self or heard something, I was just glad he did. But I wasn’t gonna stay there. I was scared and wanted my mom. I ran out our door and tried running up the hill that led to the main road. He was faster than me and he grabbed me and got me to the ground and started dragging me back to the trailer. I don’t remember how I got free but I did and I ran as fast as I could up the hill and down the road to my mom’s friends house. I found her and told her what happened but honestly, nothing was done. He got a big talking to and that was basically it. I mention it nowadays sometimes to mom when she asks why I hate my brother so much sometimes, and she just shrugs it off and is all like ” you did mean stuff to him to” uh no. Never to that extent. So yeah… I think he could have killed me then…
4. The Unknown
When I was fourteen, some friends and I were running around at night doing mischevious early teen things. We stop to rest in an abandoned lot that bordered on an old alley filled with grass and leaves. Suddenly my friend says “holy shit!” and points to the alley. I see the silhouette of a man getting up out of the leaves, then fucking sprinting towards us. Needless to say, we booked it out of there at mach speed and never looked back once. I guess at some point he just stopped following us. Don’t really know if he was trying to kill us, but whatever he was planning it can’t have been good.
5. Vandal Scandal
I’m not sure if this counts as attempted murder but a few years back someone almost killed me when they fired a shotgun at my car when I driving.
It was almost 2 in the morning and I was driving back friend’s house. There were no other cars on the road. I live in a good part of town and never expected this to happen.
I was slowing down for my turn and a truck pulls up next to me. There’s a guy with a shotgun in the bed of the truck and he fires at my car. It hits my the side of my car and the force breaks my window. It hit only a few inches below where my head would be.
We reported it to the police who asked if I cut them off or was buying drugs. I said no and they filed the report.
Was the scariest night of my life.
Insurance covered it as vandalism and I only had to pay 100 to get everything fixed (damage was close to a thousand).
6. Mommy Dearest
Two months ago my psychopathic narcissist of a mother made her Rottweiler attack me until I was bleeding quite badly. I had to get ~200 stitches and the dog was put down and she was put in jail.
7. Tis the season
My cousin tried to kill me during one of his temper tantrums. He is a 31-year-old pathetic manchild who lives in my grandmother’s basement. Over yet another one of his screaming fits because of his thieving lying criminal ways came back to bite him in the ass he deiced to pull a rather large knife from the dish pile and attack me. This was at my grandmother’s house after thanksgiving. He tried to stab me and I parried with a wooden spoon, I was doing the dishes, and then proceeded to beat him senseless.
I love fencing and have been practicing for many years it’s a great way to stay in shape.
8. Sarah's not here.
When I was a teenager I spent a lot of time with 2 friends. One evening one of them was babysitting and she asked us to come over. This was in a rural area and house numbers were not posted… directions were vague but I thought I knew where we were going.
Turns out I picked the wrong house. I left the car running and my friend in it and knocked on the door. No one came, so I realized I had the wrong house. When I go back in the car my friend said: “Oh look, Sarah is waving something out the window at us.”
Well, it wasn’t Sarah, it was a crazy old man with a shotgun that started opening fire on our car.
Fortunately, we were lucky with their shots and we managed to get away and call the cops.
The guy was seriously disturbed and paranoid, this is a safe area, I was obviously a young female (saw me walking in front of my car) and we were actually trying to drive away at the time.
9. Thug Life
Does getting stabbed in the lung count? Some Haitian gangster said he owned my street, I said no, got stabbed… Survived cause some kid called 911. Doctors said I would’ve died if I didn’t to the hospital, my lung would’ve collapsed.
10. Bar Hop
I’ve posted this before under a different name. But, here it is again. In my early 20’s I worked for a group of guys that owned several tattoo/piercing shops. They were all former carnie folk and members of a biker gang. A few months into working for these guys. They opened up a new operation next to a bar they’d leased. One evening I sat down next to the big boss and his partner. They were smoking a joint and I thought it’d be cool to join them. I thought I was in good with them, so I didn’t think twice about it. They were talking business and I didn’t really pay attention to what they were talking about. I was just enjoying the weather and passing the joint around.
The next morning I was sitting at the bar, reading the paper and having a smoke. One of my coworkers walked in the door and came up to me. I greeted him like I always did and he sucker punched me off the bar stool. I hit the floor, blood gushing from my face, he’d broken my nose. Before I could get my wits about me, he began to kick and stomp my head. My jaw was fractured. But, before he could finish me off, a couple older guys that happened to be nearby, rushed over and dragged him away from me. I got the fuck out of dodge. Found a safe place. I set my nose and disappeared for a while.
A couple days later, through a guy that was still friendly towards me told me why they tried to take me out. Apparently, the night I had sat down to smoke a joint with the boss man and his partner. They had been discussing committing insurance fraud by staging a burglary of one of their businesses and detailing laundering money through the new business in order to be vetted by a well-known organization.
11. Dinner was delicious.
When I was a kid my grandma passed away suddenly, so my mom and I stayed with my grandma’s husband, my mom’s stepfather, to help him in the wake of his wife’s unexpected death.
My mom noticed that things just didn’t add up around my grandma’s death. She was really healthy for her age and apparently had just stopped breathing with no cause in the middle of the night… strange. My mom started asking questions, and then we started getting sick after every meal. The meals my step-grandfather cooked, that is – and he insisted on doing all the cooking, yet often didn’t eat the same meal he served us.
Then my mom found evidence that convinced her that my step-grandfather had smothered his wife to death in her sleep, and was now poisoning us to cover it up before my mom figured out the truth. We fled the house and never spoke to him again. I can’t prove that I was almost murdered, but I believe it to be true, as the evidence my mom found was very convincing to her.