Some of us had great childhoods, others weren't so lucky. These people made it out, but had awful experiences from their youth they will never be able to forget.
(Content edited for clarity.)
Showering With A Killer
“I was about 12, my Mom was out getting her hair done and my Father and brother were grabbing food before we all went to ‘devotional,’ which is basically church on a Friday night.
I used to play with the two neighbor kids a lot, as they were one year older and one year younger than me. The younger one was more mischevious and got in trouble a lot and had lately been grounded.
I decided to hop in the shower, just to freshen up before devotional. While I was in the bathroom undressing, I heard my neighbor’s mother screaming to ‘stop’ and to ‘put it down. This argument continued and I got in the shower.
I was washing my hair and I heard the back door open. My mom always came in the back door so I was happy she was home, she could help me do my hair before devotional. I heard heavy footsteps stomp upstairs, and walk around for a bit, and then jiggled the handle of the bathroom. ‘I’ll be out in a minute!’ I called.
Well suddenly the upstairs phone starts ringing non-stop, like the second it went to voicemail, it would ring again. I got out of the shower and picked the phone up. My Father was on the other end, he told me to get dressed in whatever clothes were in the bathroom hamper and leave out of the front door immediately. I tried to say I needed to dry my hair and get my bible, etc. but he said, very sternly, to put clothes on from the clothes bin, and exit through the front door, immediately, or there would be a butt-whooping in store.
I said okay, hung up, and called for my mom who I could hear walking around downstairs. She didn’t reply but she doesn’t have the best hearing, it’s a miracle if she can realize a phone is ringing, be aware it is her phone, and then answer it, so, me calling her and her not replying wasn’t abnormal at all.
I took a bag with my keys and a bible and my water bottle as the phone rang again. I didn’t have time for this nonsense so I ignored it and hustled downstairs. I called to my mom that I would meet her in the car when an absurdly loud, wall shaking, noise made me drop my bag. Four knocks shook the front door. ‘Police, open up.’ They asked me not to come in, but for me to step outside. I didn’t understand. They asked if I had heard anything in the last half hour. I don’t know, my friend being chastised, maybe?
Come to find out, my neighbor was in an argument with her boyfriend and he stabbed her six times, fleeing the scene and entering our house through the back door. My brother spotted this as they pulled up across the street and called the police and then me, telling me to leave through the opposite door immediately.
So that’s the time a murderer almost walked in on me in the shower.”
The Construction Worker Deconstructs A Life
“I was 17, my younger sister was 15. We lived in the middle of the sticks. As an example, you’d have to drive 20 minutes if you wanted to buy milk.
Someone up the road was building a new house. There were loads of construction workers. My sister liked to go for walks. One day a construction worker in a truck pulled up next to her. He was middle-aged and started to talk to her. Being the naive country girl she was, she continued the conversation until he asked if she had a boyfriend. She told me later that he had this creepy smile on his face when she asked. She lied, said yes, then said she had to go home and ran off.
Flash forward to a few days later after she’s seen the same guy a few times, she’s walking down the road with a friend, they spot the truck and my sister decides she’s had enough and they run all the way home, but he follows. They lock the door and watch as the truck passes by the house over and over again.
Continues now and then for a few days, our parents don’t really believe us, because we had just gone through what we believed was a ghost haunting our house so they, of course, thought we were paranoid.
A few days later my sister gets ill, she asks me to stay home with her because she’s still scared. I fake being sick and we skip school together. I’m playing on our GameCube and she’s in bed when she suddenly sits up and claims she heard footsteps downstairs. I tell her she’s just being paranoid, mostly because I’m too terrified to believe it. Our dog who was in the room with us (sweet elderly Border Collie, wouldn’t hurt a fly) suddenly begins to growl, showing her teeth even. I get scared and open the door a crack, and the dog blasts her way out through the hallway to the top of the staircase and starts going nuts. I hear the footsteps and slam the door closed and lock it.
At this point we don’t really know what to do, so we’re trying to call our Mom but she’s not picking up her cellphone. The dog has positioned herself in front of our bedroom door and suddenly we hear her go quiet and see the handle beginning to shake as if someone is trying to open the door. We scream and I finally call 911.
Now, remember, we’re out in the sticks, so the nearest police station is a good 20 minutes away. I’m sobbing on the phone as my sister is halfway out the bedroom window. Anyone who had a landline growing up remembers that you can hear when someone else picks up the phone. So our intruder picks up the phone and even the 911 call lady hears it, at this point she’s screaming at me not to hang up the phone and sit tight as we wait for the police and not to unlock the bedroom door.
Flash forward to about 15 minutes later, three police cars pull into the driveway. They rush into the house and lead us and our very shaken pup (but uninjured, I’m still thankful for this) outside. By that time our intruder is gone.
There were no signs of a break-in, but our front door was no good and our basement door didn’t really lock so that wasn’t surprising. My Mom comes home from work and into this mess and is questioned too. But she doesn’t believe us and at this point, I feel like the cops don’t either. The only one who did believe us is my father because he swears he saw the truck my sister described parked at the walking trail several times the week leading up to the break-in on his way home from work.
We never heard or saw anything from that man afterward. The house was completed a day or so before the break-in. The police never contacted us with a follow-up. Still makes me stay awake at night thinking what could have happened if I hadn’t stayed home with my sister that day. Mom refuses to talk about it too.”
Staying Calm In The Midst Of Immediate Danger
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“My family lived in the boondocks when I was 7 and we had this long and winding driveway where the last bend would open up to a larger area for parking to the left side of our house. It was a perfect setup for a baseball game, which we had many over the years.
We were playing one such game at dusk when my Dad came out and said it was time for everyone to come inside. My oldest cousin, who was at bat, looked like he was going to argue, but then my dad gave him this look and my cousin then, overly dramatic, said ‘Oh yea! I agree! Let’s all just WALK inside now.’ He went to his brothers and hoisted the smallest on under his arm and grabbed the other by his hand and slowly walked toward the house.
Me? I’m in the outfield, in the driveway right at the last bend. I’ve missed the whole point apparently that everyone else had picked up on because I’m just standing there wondering why everyone was acting so strangely. My dad calls me in this kind of sing songs voice ‘Heeey! Why don’t you WALK this way?’ Now, my dad is not a sing-song voice kind of man. He is loud and his voice always carries a room. He’s that guy that everyone thinks is yelling all the time, but it was just his normal volume. I started that way and he met me and threw me over his shoulder and turned around to WALK back into the house.
I looked up from my upside down position to where I had just been standing to see a huge panther just laying there in the crook of the bend. After everyone was inside, we, of course, had our noses to the windows. The panther got up, walked around to each base before sauntering back down the driveway. My dad exercised his 2nd amendment right with a new purchase the following weekend that is ceremoniously mounted above the front door of every house they’ve lived in after.”
In The Dark At The Grandparents’ Home
“I remember one day I was at my grandparents’ house. They lived in an apartment in New York and I remember my grandmother telling me that tonight we’re all gonna sleep in the same room and that whatever you hear, don’t open the front door. Mind you I’m maybe like 6, so being in the same bed as my grandparents wasn’t abnormal.
But then in the middle of the night, I hear a knock on the door. Both my grandparents immediately get up, as do I. My grandfather just motions for me to stay in bed. Since this was in New York, the apartment is extremely tiny, and the bedroom is right next to the front door.
Anyways, my grandmother has her whole body against the door, she’s yelling at something to go away. I hear kicks – someone was trying to kick in the door! I hear heavy stuff being slammed against the door. Me, being a bit of a silly head, I kept telling my grandmother to let them in. And I think I actually heard one of them tauntingly say, ‘Yeah grandma let us in.’ My grandma pushes me back, still pressing her body against the door. Eventually, I think the people just left and I go right back to sleep.
The next day things were just right back to normal and they refused to ever talk about it. The weird part is that they knew someone was coming or acted like it, but no one ever bothered us literally except for that night. That’s literally the only time I can recall seeing my grandfather shook. But like I said, nothing like that ever happened again”
The Man On The Other Side Of The Door
“When I was around 11 years old, I was at home babysitting my younger cousins while my mom went to the grocery store. We lived in a basement apartment. The basement only had two apartments that were right across from each other. On the side our apartment was on there was the laundry room. The laundry room was fairly large and that’s where most people who had bikes would chain them.
I was watching television with my younger cousins when I heard a knock on the door. This was super weird to me already because literally no one ever visited us out of nowhere. I was still super short so I had to get a small chair to stand on so I could look through the peephole.
I looked and there was some giant dude I had never seen before. I remember saying ‘Hi’ and then me saying ‘Can I help you?’ The door was still definitely locked though. This man proceeds to tell me that his bike was stolen from the laundry room. He didn’t continue talking though so I said: ‘Um…I’m sorry?’ He proceeds to repeat himself but then adds that he knows what his bike smells like. I remember being so totally confused and could not imagine where he was going with this. I said, ‘I’m sorry your bike got stolen…?’ Then he says that because he knows what his bike smells like that I have to open the door so he can smell my hands.
Smell my freaking hands.
I got so freaked out that I almost started crying and kept saying ‘I’m sorry but I didn’t steal your bike.’ He starts getting super aggressive and pounding on the door and saying that he needs to smell my hands so he can make sure that I didn’t steal his bike.
I then got off the chair and just started screaming ‘MOOOOOOOOM’ over and over again as if she was home. I did this throughout the apartment as if I was going to get her and when I checked afterward he was gone.
Still one of the creepiest things I’ve ever encountered. I told my mom when she got home and she flipped out. Never saw that dude again.”
Playing With Mr. Tickle
“When I was about 8, my family and I went to a fast food restaurant with my parents and two younger brothers. The restaurant had a play area, so my brother (3 at the time) and I got to go play when we were done eating (my other brother was still under 1 at the time). I was excited because there were no other kids there and we were going to get the whole area to ourselves.
But when we climbed to the top, I was confused to find a boy quietly sitting up there. Not really running around or playing, just quietly sitting. I wasn’t a great judge of age back then, but I knew he was a lot taller than me, he didn’t look like a grown-up, but he didn’t look quite like a kid, either.
He got up and started following me around, asking if I wanted to play and how old I was. He was trying to chase me and tickle me, but I told him I was helping my brother play on the equipment so I couldn’t really run and play. I was mostly just getting a creepy feeling from him and was hoping he’d leave me alone.
I didn’t even think to ask who he was with (my family was the only one in the play area and the dining area only had a few old people) or how old he was, I just knew I didn’t like the way he was making me feel. He kept following me around and talking to me, reaching out and trying to tickle me a few more times, and finally, I decided to lead my brother down to our parents.
My brother must have been equally uncomfortable because he went willingly. The boy followed us and ended up sitting next to me in the booth, right across the table from my parents. He continued to talk to me and poking/tickling me. My mom was nice to him at first but eventually decided to ask where his parents were. He said, ‘At home, I just walked over here and felt like hanging out.’
My mom was shocked and asked how old he was, to which the boy responded that he was 15. My parents promptly packed up and got us the heck out of there. The older I get, the eerier it seems, to think about a teenage boy sitting in that play area, waiting for someone to come up, and then following and ticking a little girl almost half his age.”
Abducted At Therapy
“When I was four, my parents were already divorced. My mom moved us back to her rural youth home and my father made little attempt to see me, but as I got older, I realized it was because he was not allowed visitation with me. He wasn’t a good man and my mom was afraid of him. She would go to see a therapist once a week in the nearest town, about 25 minutes from home. I would go, too, and even though it was boring, I loved that there was a vending machine in the waiting room. I used to wait there while my mom had her therapy, the receptionist usually kept an eye on me.
One day, for whatever reason, instead of waiting in the waiting room, my mom and her therapist took me to a mostly empty room with toys in it and had me play there. I was playing for awhile when two men came into the room. They were dressed like, in my mind, FBI or secret service looking men; suits, dress shoes, sunglasses, and something like an earbud in their ear.
They were enticing me to go with them, telling me I would get in trouble for being in that room alone and had to go with them. I remember getting up from the toys, leaving the toys out, taking the hands of the men, and walking out. We turned right when we walked out the door and got maybe halfway down the hall when my mom and her therapist emerged (likely on their way to go get me.)
I will never forget the look of sheer fear on the face of my mom’s therapist. She was really angry asking what was going on. My mom also looked frightened. My mom and her therapist took me and the men left.
My mom was always afraid my father would kidnap me and hurt me, so I don’t know if it was something my dad set up. All I know is I’m grateful my mom and her therapist showed up when they did.”
Things Go Very Wrong At The Supermarket
“I should be more creeped out than I really am about this but when I was 10 or so, I went to Walmart with my family. At the end of shopping, both parents lined up at the register. Long lines at Walmart. My younger brother wanted chocolate or something and my mom said if he could run and get it by the time we checked out we could buy it. So off he goes. When there are only two people ahead of us my mom tells me to go fetch my brother since he hadn’t come back. So I do.
But in the midst of doing so, this man stops me. He grabs my arm and says ‘I bet you’re looking for your little brother. He’s back at the register with your mom. How about you take a walk with me.’ I don’t know why I wasn’t really scared. But I did yell at him to let me go as he dragged me to the exit. To my astonishment, no one did anything. I was in the middle of Walmart yelling at this man who appeared to be kidnapping me and no one did anything. I want to reason that maybe adults thought I was being a rebellious kid and he was my dad.
End of the story is that he panicked and I got away.”
Full-Frontal Exposure
“When I was 7/8 I was playing in the front yard with my younger sister and brother, a brown car pulled up and the guy in the car was just staring at us. My stranger danger sensor kicked in immediately and told my sister to go inside and get mom. While she was doing that I just stayed at a distance with my brother, for whatever reason too afraid to go inside myself, afraid he’d come after me I guess if I turned my back to him. He had a weird look on his face and I could tell he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I was confused and creeped out.
The man wasn’t saying anything, just smiling and staring. I remember telling him to go away but he only smiled. I could tell he was doing something in his car but I couldn’t tell what. I was getting really creeped out and since it was taking my mom and sister a good while to get back, I got the courage to turn my back to him and started to go inside. And that’s when he called out to me ‘Hey – girl, I’ve lost my dog can you help me find him?’
I know, I know, the oldest trick in the book. I knew better than to fall for it but he kept pleading and even insisted he had a picture of the dog he could show me. He broke my resolve down. I figured if I just look at the picture from a distance I can tell him yes or no and be done with it. He may look like a weirdo but his poor dog is missing!
I put my brother on the other side of the screen door, put down the ball I was playing with and walked closer to his car. ‘Here’s the picture but it’s on my lap, you’ll have to get closer to see it,’ he said. So, like an idiot, I stepped a bit closer… and that’s when I saw him completely naked pleasuring himself to me with the nastiest smile on his face. I screamed for my mom and quickly rushed away as he reached through his car door for me. I remember the feel of his fingers tugging at my shirt, he thankfully didn’t get a good grip. He drove away quickly after that.
My parents called the cops and I reported what I saw but the cops didn’t find the man. I still get incredibly creeped out as I realize what that man was and what he probably had in store for me.”
The Big Bad Bus Driver
“My bus stop was half a mile from my house so usually my mom would be standing at it to walk me home until I was about nine or ten. Well, one of the days she wasn’t there, so the bus driver said to me ‘Hold on there, little guy, come with me and I’ll leave you home later. Ain’t safe to walk that road alone.’
Being a kid I just agreed and on we went. I was the last stop along the bus route so at this point, there was nobody else on the bus but me.I sat near the front of the bus and the bus driver went about his business collecting students from a secondary school. I remember feeling very uncomfortable the entire time. As fate would have it, one of the girls to get on at the school was my cousin.
She started freaking out a little bit and asked why I was on the bus. The bus driver didn’t really say anything but I told her about my mom not being at the bus stop. She sat beside me the entire time until she had to get off.
When the bus driver had finished his route he left me off at my house at around 5:15. My mom was on the phone in the hall in tears thinking something had happened and the bus driver went on without saying anything.
I sometimes wonder if my cousin hadn’t recognized me on the bus and made such a big deal about me being there would I have been left home afterward.”
The Gift Nobody Ever Asked For
“My mother’s ex-husband once was trying to get in the house. He was shouting and crying, waving a knife and then his hand through the letterbox. He pulled his hand back and started screaming then fell quiet. I could still hear him breathing so I knew he was there. The letterbox slipped back open and his hand came through holding something weird and bloody. It was his skin. He’d cut out his tattoo of my mother’s name and pushed it through the letterbox. My mother wasn’t even home so I just left it there. I was in my early teens and old enough to know that my addict mother would hit the roof and probably me if I’d called the police. I left it there to anger her off and carried on keeping the doors locked and taking care of the 4 younger siblings in the house. She was on a bender with her current partner – the dude she cheated on her slicey tattoo ex with.
She got home the next day and was all ‘WHAT is this?’ Then she called the police, cause he’d thrown paint all over the house and stolen our wheelie bin too (why). Long and messy story short, he was sectioned. He’s out now as this was like 15 years ago but he does try to contact me occasionally. I never respond.”
The Worst Babysitter Ever
“I have very vague memories of me sitting on a bed, in a room I don’t recognize, and just staring out the window for long periods of time. Or of being in a very small room with no light. I brought it up with my mom a couple of years ago, thinking that the bedroom might have been from an old house we lived in.
Turns out, when I was 3-4, I got taken out of preschool for being bullied as some other kid hit me in the face with a shovel and I would go to a babysitter during the day. The babysitter would lock me in a bedroom for hours, sometimes even put me in a closet. I guess this went on for a few months before she was found out.
One day, my grandparents picked up me and my brother from the babysitter, and I guess I said something about my brother crying too much. The babysitter was leaving him in his playpen and ignoring him, and I would hear him crying while I was in the bedroom/closet. He would have been about 1 at the time.
I am a good bit claustrophobic now.”