"When I was younger, my mom took my brother and me to the park with our bicycles. We were excited. When we approached the entrance, I saw a guy sleeping in the entryway. I remember my mom panicking and telling us we needed to go home.
At the time I had no idea what was going on, but my mom explained to me later in life that the 'sleeping man' was laying down because he was stabbed to death."
"When I was 13 or so, I got to watch paramedics try to revive a toddler that had drowned. I was on my way back from the pool when I saw fire trucks and an ambulance rush past me into the street, so I ran back to see what was going on.
Watching a full-grown man push that kid's chest over and over with CPR from the fence surrounding the pool I kept waiting for the kid to suddenly wake up like in the movies. Five minutes go by and still nothing. Not even a whimper. Just the sound of limp, wet flesh with every press. I walked back to my house in a daze, leaving the paramedic behind me, still trying to pump life into that tiny body. I found out later from my mother that he died.
Now, even though I am an excellent swimmer, the thought of drowning terrifies me."
"A couple friends and I were riding bikes a few blocks away from my friend's house. We heard a loud screech coming from one of the side streets. When we went to check it out, we found a Golden Retriever's pup just squirming in the middle of the street. Although we didn't see blood, we figured that he got hit by a car. A guard told us that a guy on a motorcycle had hit the dog and then sped away. We stood around the dog, petting him until he died. He was squirming and crying in pain. After the dog stopped moving, the guard moved it to the side of the road where its mother's house was. The family that owned the dog came out of the house, and we saw the faces of the little kids as the guard handed them their now dead puppy. The situation had me sobbing the whole day and scared that something similar could happen to my dog."
"When I was around 10 years old, I was going to visit my grandmother with my mom and her sister. It was a snowy night. I can't remember if it was Christmas or why we were going. But, during the drive, I remember hearing on the radio that there was a car accident. It just happened to be on the same road that we were traveling. My mother and my aunt were chattering about how dangerously icy that road gets, this and that. It spooked me out. I think that's why I remember the whole situation. Not seeing what happened, but the whole approach and anticipation.
Anyway, we approached the accident. The vehicle that went off the road had gone into the ditch and flipped several times, ejecting a couple passengers. One woman was thrown to the other side of the road. Another was thrown into the field. Both died. I didn't see that person. I did, however, see a girl that was hanging out of the door, still attached to her seat belt.
We sat there, unable to pass through the scene, in the dark with the only light being the flashes from ambulances and fire trucks. I saw paramedics pull the woman from the car and put her in an ambulance, covered in blood. I then watched as a truck tried to pull the up-turned car out of the ditch, only to pull itself in. I remember the whole dang thing like it was yesterday. The whole thing still feels so ominous.
This was about 20 years ago now. As for the girl that survived, she lost a sister and a brother. She's unable to move and cannot speak. I guess the door closed on her head while it was rolling. I only know this because shortly after I met my girlfriend, she told me this story about a woman she takes care of because she was in a bad accident caused by swerving to avoid a dog on an icy road. She described every memory I have."
"It was dinner, we were eating Spaghetti, and my dad asked my mom where the bread was, my mom said, 'I left it in the kitchen' and got up to get it. My dad yanked her arm hard and threw her back into her seat and yelled that he asked her where it was, not to get it. He told my sister and me to go outside and he locked the door behind us. We had grown up in an abusive household, and I was 15 at the time.
I looked through the moon window on the door, and I remember telling my little sister that if he hit her again I was going to call the police. I started walking down the driveway, pacing when I heard her scream. He had gotten a hammer and had smashed her orbit. I'm not sure how I did it, but my adrenaline and anger definitely hit a maximum, so I charged at my front door and the deadbolt smashed through the frame. I ran in and shoved my dad. I knew I could not do much to hurt him, so I toppled the bookcase onto him and grabbed my mom by the hand and pulled her outside.
She tried to sit down on the front porch but I fireman-style carried her to a neighbor, screaming at my sister to run the whole time. In my head, my dad was right behind us, but in reality, the bookcase and books had injured him and he was staggering to get back up inside. Our neighbors took us in, locked the door and called the police. My dad ended up getting back up and took the car to get some smokes. My mom was crying a lot, but she was in shock and was panicked about her glasses, so I went back to the house to look for them. I got the glasses and one leg was bent on the opposite side where they came off, but they were repairable. My dad came home around that time. I remember our last conversation. 'We need to talk about what just happened.' I looked at him, and for the first time in my life, I realized he was a coward who had gotten caught torturing the ants in his life. I just said 'no' and closed the front door the best I could. The cops came a few minutes later and took him to jail. My mom did her best to raise us, our grades went to straight A's and I got a free ride at a tech school and joined the army as a medic. I try every day to embody his opposite."
"I saw my brother pass away from cancer. It wasn't messed up, it more so was the progression, watching him change, watching a tumor a size of a football grow on his shoulder, helping change his bandages and doing anything I could do as a kid.
One thing that never leaves me is when my granddad died, we were all there in the room with him, he couldn't speak or move he just stared at me, then we asked him do you think we should keep him on life support to keep him breathing, he just stared at me and smiled.
The nurses said he only had a few hours that day as they could tell he was going to pass. It's just the feeling I remember, the dread the sudden emptiness that someone has just disappeared it just never leaves you and you can kinda sense when people are going to die."
"When I was about 10 years old, I went to a boxing club four times a week. My mum had got me to go there as I was getting bullied. One day I was getting changed after training and one of the blokes was sitting there with his boxer shorts just pulled down a bit and then proceeded to ping his erect junk up from his waistband multiple times while looking at me. I sat there frozen. Another bloke walked in and spotted what he was doing, called the other lads in and he got battered. Never saw him again and never spoke of it."
"Back when I was a teenager, I saw the worst bike wreck of my life while on a boy scout camping trip. We were on the highway heading to South Dakota for a week. The van I was in was filled with four other kids all of them around 12 years old.
The road had narrowed down to two lanes, and we sped along at about 100 mph when a motorcycle zipped past like we were standing still. That's when the speed wobbles started and he lost control swerving into a guardrail and bouncing and skipping along the road the guardrail we see his helmet fly off. We slammed on the brakes, blocking the road, and rushed over to the biker hoping to give whatever first aid we could before the cops or more could make it to us.
It was a pointless act, the guy was dead before we had even gotten to him. There was a gash across his chest and a rough stump where his head had been. We rushed the younger boys back in the van to keep them from seeing it, and the older boys went looking for the helmet with the head inside."
"My cousin's house caught fire after an uncapped gas line filled the house with gas and was ignited by the heater's pilot light. Her 2-year-old daughter was sleeping on the couch and was burned over most of her body. They allowed the family in to see her at the hospital that night and the image of her burned body still haunts me 20 years later. She was trying to cry and reach out but no one could touch her because of the severity of her burns. Her eyes were burned shut, almost her entire body was blackened. She lived for two weeks and died of kidney failure due to the medications they were giving her. I am a dark person with an almost disturbing fascination with morbid things, but seeing that baby like that right there in real life almost destroyed me. Now that I have a daughter of my own, I think of the baby often and it breaks my heart to imagine seeing my own child like that."
"I was about 8 years old and attending some formal event that included my Sicilian family, close family friends, and some others. I remember having to be dressed up, and it was held at a restaurant with a large dining area and large floor to ceiling glass windows looking out over the neighboring streets. I didn't have any other kids my age there, so I wandered over to the window and just looked outside. A black car drove down the street to an empty lot and I watched a short Italian man that looked like Danny Devito from Matilda get out of the driver's side while a gaudy woman got out of the passenger side.
The guy looked pissed and opened the back door and ripped a young teenage kid from the back seat and threw him on the ground. The kid tried jumping back in the car and the guy slammed the door on his leg. I heard him scream from down the street. The kid fell on to the ground crying while the guy was yelling at him and beating him. I grabbed my older cousin and she looked out and gasped. They called the cops immediately but the guy had already gotten back in his car and left when they showed up. The worst part about it was many of the older men at the event were not phased at all. I still think about that from time to time."
"I got out of bed one day when I was maybe six years old and couldn't find my dad. I went downstairs and saw the front door was wide open and looked outside to see my dad in the middle of a violent brawl with some guy. Turns out, a carjacker tried to break into the car only for my dad to catch him, which resulted in them throwing fists. The dude had a knife but my dad somehow managed to disarm him, and eventually, my dad managed to pin him down until the police came. It was a scary situation to watch. I nearly ran to my dad while he was fighting this guy, but the neighbor had to stop me because I could have been injured."
"I was about 12 years old, visiting my mom and her smack-addicted boyfriend. I got to, not only see him overdosing but had to help my mom put him into the shower and turn on the cold water. The shower woke him up, and in his panic, he smacked me in the face with a flailing arm, at which point, my mom yelled at me for being to close. She wouldn't take me home, and made me stay there for two more days before putting me on an AmTrak back to my dad's house."
"When I was in primary school, a woman died in a car crash next to our playing field and a lot of us saw it. It was a nasty way to go. I was on the playing field at the time as it was lunchtime. I remember being in the climbing frame, hearing a loud crash, and running over to the boundary fence to see what'd happened.
A woman driving an old '70s Mini had crashed into a 2000s Range Rover. The force of the crash had thrown her through the windshield. She was lying on the pavement about 20 feet from her vehicle, and bits of her brain were scattered all over the road, the hood of her car, and her windshield. All the girls were freaking out about it, and all the boys thought it was the coolest thing we'd ever seen at the time. The autopsy examiners thought she'd had a heart attack whilst driving, causing her to lose control and accelerate into the parked car. Lucky she didn't crash through the school fence, I suppose."
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"I was 4 years old at the time.
My parents, my 5-month-old brother, and I were driving home after visiting our grandparents (father's side). On our way back, we drove over an old street with nothing but trees around us and, like always, they got into a fight. My father started screaming at her and hit her a couple of times. My brother started crying, so I tried to calm him. My father wasn't happy with his 5-month-old son crying. He started screaming at me to keep him quiet. Right after that, my mother punched him in his ribs and he lost his mind. He slowed down, told my mother to open her door and just leave the car. The whole time he was screaming, my mother opened the door out of fear and asked why she had to open the door.
This idiot of a human then pushed her out of the car. I was scared after he hit the gas pedal. The only thing that I did was look back and scream 'mommy' dozens of times. He turned his head, hit the reverse gear and reversed back into her direction. At this moment, I only thought how he was going to run her over.
I yelled 'no' as loud as I could, but to our luck, he only reversed back to pick her up."
"I remember it like it was yesterday. I went out on my dad's car on his request to get something for him; it was like a document or something. My parents were going through a divorce, and my dad had moved to a new place so his back seat had a bunch of crap. Well, I'm looking through like everything, and I come across this manila envelope, so I open it. It looked like pictures, so I took them out, out of curiosity. Well, the first picture is from my dad's POV and it's my mom naked riding my dad reverse cowgirl with an adult toy in at the same time, and it was one of those with a clear back, so you can see inside. I continued looking through the pics now out of disgusted curiosity. Immediately scarred for life. Not only that, but I went through that phase where I liked going through everyone's nightstands and drawers to see what they had. Well, I went through my mom's bedside table. She had a thing of yellow butt beads on a string, an adult toy, one of those big rubber toys, and this strap-on looking contraption that had a junk that came with a pump where you could pump it up and make it fatter."
"My childhood friend and her mother were driving on the freeway and noticed a giant cute dog in front of them, in the back of a truck. She pointed to the dog and said, 'Awww look! So cute!' Just as the dog flew out of the back and splattered into their windshield. Whenever she saw a dog in the back of a truck, she would go into a full panic from then on."
"When I was 6 years old, I moved out to the middle of nowhere Iowa. My dad decided he wanted a farm. Not really a farm since we didn't grow anything or raise any livestock for sale, but we had fields that we rented out to other farmers. However, we did have chickens. I loved those chickens, and I did my best to raise and care for them. I gathered eggs, put down bedding, and cleaned out all the crap in the coop. I loved my chickens and I was even okay with the butchering them after a while. I even did participated in 4H for a bit and brought some hens to show. At around 12 years old that situation changed. I went out into the chicken coop like I did every morning to gather eggs. It was mid-February, so it was cold out. I hadn't even noticed the lack of noise coming from the coop, but I doubt it would have prepared me. Every chicken was murdered. Feathers were everywhere, some of their bodies were still intact with their eyes still open, but most of them were torn apart.
Some coyote spent some time digging a tunnel down beneath the coop wall directly into the nesting area and didn't spare a single one. It might have been a fox, but the hole was big. That still messes me up."
"One of the Foster homes I was placed in was home to a sick family. The wife would make us all sit down in a room and the husband would pick two of us and inappropriately touch them in front of us all. Shortly afterward was my first time seeing a dead body as the oldest biological daughter hanged herself in the room shared with the other girls. It was just before her 12th birthday.
Another 'home' had one of the adults showing us pictures they had taken of other foster children. Some just naked, others being attacked or beaten, and I saw a picture of a girl the same age as me I knew mounted by a dog.
I can ramble on for hours with stories of several types of abuse but instead, if you've ever considered opening up your home to a child without one, do it. Not all homes are bad and not all foster parents are evil, but there isn't many and they fill up fast. Don't be upset about me, just don't let it happen anymore."
"My parents separated when I was 3 years old and were divorced by the time I was a couple years older. My dad was a smack addict (Vietnam veteran with undiagnosed PTSD, as well as traditional clinical depression, and self-medicated), but 'handled it' well enough that he had regular custody rights.
While staying with my dad in his absolute craphole of an apartment, he told me to stand in the corner and keep my face turned towards the wall. I did as I was told, but could clearly hear him fumbling with something in the center of the room, behind me. Metallic clinking, clicking, scratching, a snap of rubber, and the sharp intake of his breath, like when someone sucks on their teeth.
Then nothing. No sounds.
I turned around to see my dad strung out, alive and breathing but basically vacant and blissed out, with a syringe between his fingers. He then peed himself with a smile on his face. I don't remember much after that. I think I blocked it out. I do remember playing with my hot wheels cars, 'driving' them on the exposed wooden beams of the walls of the apartment, essentially out of boredom.
I didn't play with hot wheels much after that.
Maybe half a year later, my dad was on his way to his dealer with me in tow, in the hopes that the dealer would give him a better deal if he saw that he was a father. He ended up falling asleep at the wheel as he exited the freeway, driving over the edge of the offramp, rolling his truck five or six times, completely totaling it. My dad shattered multiple bones, but I was unhurt beyond a few scratches, but I have no memory of the crash.
I don't mind if people smoke, but I have zero tolerance for the harder stuff. Not only do I not do them, I don't associate with people who do them. I've ended friendships when I find out about people's substance abuse."
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