"When my family and I were cleaning out my grandpa's apartment, we found different pieces of a semi-automatic scattered around. He struggled on and off with depression, and apparently, he did it so that if he was thinking about suicide, he would have to go find all the parts and give himself time to talk himself out of it."
"My cousin died in a motorcycle accident. I cleaned out his apartment along with his brother. We didn't find anything strange in particular at first, but then we went over to his computer to erase his history. We turned it on, an encrypted message asked for a password, then a loud bang went off, and the computer just died.
It turns out he booby-trapped the computer. I had failed to press some secondary button that was unknown to me, and there was a bullet shell filled with birdshot aimed at the harddrive rigged to go off if the button wasn't pressed in time. It obliterated the hard drive.
To this day I wonder what he had on there to go to such lengths to keep hidden."
"When my dad passed, my older sister (from his first marriage) came to help go through stuff.
All our lives, my dad had his army locker. None of us knew what was inside. He always kept it locked. So we had to know. The mystery of our entire lives was now ready to be cracked open.
We busted the lock off and opened it. There were some old army patches and souvenirs from his army days as well as some stuff of his dad's and grandpa's army days. There were pictures from his time overseas. A letter from government agency interested in him. Legal papers. Cool stuff.
And then the envelope.
The mystery of our entire lives, what was so important that he kept locked? Naked photos of my mom and naked photos of my sisters' mom.
We should never have opened that locker."
"After my dad died, my mom found an envelope in his drawer with my name on it. It was a letter he wrote me when I was 3 months old (I was 21 when he died), and in the note there was a line that said, 'If you're reading this, it means I'm no longer in your life,' and also said that he hopes he can be a good dad, and he will always try to be there for me/help me with problems and hopes that we'll be close.
It kind of made me sad because I didn't have the BEST relationship with him. It wasn't bad, but I was the kind of kid that would rather be left alone than spend time with my parents and stuff. He would on occasion ask if I wanted to watch a movie or play a game with him, and sometimes I would. But for the most part, he let me just be by myself. And, up until I read that note, I honestly thought he was like me and just preferred being alone, and didn't mind that I didn't spend a lot of time with him. My mom and I also thought it was weird that we even found that note. My dad had a habit of misplacing stuff, and that note was written over 20 years ago and he managed not to lose that.
He wasn't ill when he wrote the letter. He wound up dying from lung cancer, but he was healthy his whole life aside from a few years before he died when he started getting sick. I think maybe he wrote the note because people were always telling him (well, mainly my mom and her side of the family) that he probably wouldn't be a good dad, and I'd not be happy because he didn't manage money well. My mom grew up rich, he didn't. When I grew up we lived in a trailer. But I was never hungry, never homeless, never went without things I needed. My mom just expected more and I guess convinced him I'd be the same. I think he wrote that note so, in the event that there was an accident or something, I would always know that he did try to be a good dad, despite others telling him he'd never be able to do enough for me. I guess they thought because he couldn't buy me expensive things, and take us on vacation, that he'd not be a good dad. Those things aren't even important and I feel bad people told him that I'd grow up thinking he was a bad dad because he couldn't afford to give me everything. I grew up genuinely not caring about those kind of luxuries."
"When my family and I were going through my dead brother's belongings, we found another cell phone with a secret girlfriend no one knew about. The strangest thing was that my brother had no reason to hide this like an affair. He wasn't cheating, and it's not like anyone would care or check his phone.
They met in-person and then went long distance or something.
The worst part was that she was freaking out and kept sending him messages of where he was or why he stopped texting her. To tell someone her boyfriend died two months ago was an intense conversation.
My brother fought a year-long battle with cancer. He was getting better until he wasn't. The cancer had passed to his lungs and then his brain. He had a stroke due to that. It was sudden and left him paralyzed. Two days later he passed away in his sleep. He was only 18 years old.
This girlfriend knew of his sickness but not that it had reached to metastasis. The texts of the phone were progressing from: 'You went to chemo and forgot your phone, didn't you?' to 'Please tell me you're alright, I'm losing it.'
I told my mom (after I erased every nude photo he ever sent her since I knew she would check that) and she called her. I think the moment she heard my mom's voice was all it took to know what happened. She cried. My mom cried and passed the phone to me. I answered every question about what happened and after a while, she went quiet, thanked us and hung up. Unfortunately, we found out about her two months after he passed away, so she didn't make the service.
I called her a few days later to check on her. She asked me where my mom lived. I heard from my mom that she went to visit her after I left and that she was a mess. I think they still text each other.
As for why did he hide this? To this day I don't know. It has been a year now. My only guess is that she was Mormon and my mom (a Catholic) would have disapproved of this. My mom told me she asked her why did they hide it and she just told her she couldn't say why. She also hid the relationship from her own family but they were planning on coming out with the truth when he moved out to her college town.
I still miss the guy, and I am a bit hurt to this day that he didn't trust me with the truth, you know? He was my little brother and I even do the heavy lifting on seeing his junk more times that I ever did for real.
But he must have had his reasons. I only wish I could have told him that nothing would ever change my mind on how I saw him and how much I would still love him. This news made my father smile for the first time since he died; he was so proud that he didn't die without getting some."
"My dad died in a car accident when I was 6 years old. When he was alive, he wasn't the kindest guy; he was very strict and pretty distant (a good dad in ways, just not very affectionate). After he died, my siblings who were in high school found out a bunch of stuff about him. He was violated as a kid, and he told his dad, and his dad told him to suck it up and be a man about it. Then my sister found medical records on our parents' computer saying he'd attempted suicide a few times as an adult because he had severe depression, but he was so ashamed and couldn't let us find out. The man we thought was very rigid, ended up just being a guy who had a very hard life. I wish I had known him better."
"I was kidnapped as a baby, and when my mother was murdered a few years ago, I found all of the legal papers and court transcripts from the fight to get me back. It was heartbreaking to read what my mother had to go through to get me back. My very abusive father took me when I was only 8 months old and then died when I was about 2 years old. She had to fight to get me back. It took her five years.
See, I was a 'mistress baby.' My father had 30 years on my mother. I'm the youngest of his children by 26 years. When he died in a car accident, one of my half-sisters came from Georgia to Arizona to take me back to Georgia.
My father was not a good man; he was heavily involved in smuggling coke via big rigs and what not, so he hid his money using my name, because of this my siblings fought for custody to get the cash. I was the reason their family was torn apart.
I'm so happy my mother eventually got me back, but her murder was strange. The case was ruled a suicide but too much doesn't add up. Lots of things were missing from the house, and the manner in which it happened doesn't make sense. She was known to be eccentric but she would have never left me to deal with the things I've had to deal with. One of her missing weapons turned up in an unrelated crime on the other side of town. It's all pretty messed up and after a year of fighting to have the case opened back up I gave up. The house was sold shortly after everything happened, she's in a jar on my dresser and I am left to figure out how to navigate this situation on my own.
I would love to get some answers but I've just accepted that I will never really know what happened."
"During my freshman year of college, a good buddy commit suicide. The two of us were into computers, and when he died, I obviously went over to help his mother cope and collect his things. He had entrusted me as the arbiter in his will that he had written just three months before. I went through his laptop after breaking into it and found a folder called 'SSP' I opened it up and found out that 'SSP' stood for 'School Shooting Plans.'
He downloaded a .jpeg of his school's map and then edited it in Microsoft paint showing where he would enter and exit the various buildings at the university he went to (we went to different schools). He had an Amazon history of weapons he was trying to purchase as well as a hit list of specific buildings he was going to shoot.
I think the saddest thing I found though was a simple .txt document near the bottom of the folder titled 'Why I did it' and it was a single sentence that read: 'Nobody was ever going to love me anyway.' It broke my heart.
I had known this kid since the first grade all the way through college, he always had trouble speaking to girls. When I went into his search history through Chrome, I found that he frequented underground forums a lot, I think this is where he got the idea for his shooting. He would also spend a lot of time browsing Youtube videos of Elliot Rodgers documentaries. I also found a few PDF guides made by the United States military about close handed combat and how to kill swiftly with a knife or blade of sorts.
Needless to say, because he was already dead I didn't want this to get out, so I took the hard drive out of the laptop and microwaved it and then took it into my house and destroyed it with a hammer.
I will miss this kid forever. I am sad that he is dead but also happy that he couldn't go through with his plan to kill as many people as he possibly could before offing himself. Still, he was my best mate and always will be."
"Well, my step-grandfather was the son of a senator and came from a long line of military and political power.
He was kicked out of the military for giving oral someone, but it was swept under the rug because his father couldn't be associated with a gay.
My grandpa immediately met and married my grandma, his platonic soulmate. Even though he was gay he very much loved her with everything he had.
My grandma looked like Mallory Archer, and my grandpa looked like Steve Martin in the '90s. They were both wealthy and attractive, so they were easily the posh power couple you would expect a secret queen to be a part of. They were the most fabulous pair in existence.
When he died my aunt went in with my grandmother to clear his computer. The gay videos were no shocker. I mean, yeah, duh.
The thing that shocked my aunt was the emails and photos he saved.
My grandma had kept it quiet from his step-grandchildren (my mom and aunt), but when grandpa found out his cancer had come back, he started dating an attractive bi man that my grandmother also fancied.
While cleaning the house, my aunt found pictures of my grandma and grandpa banging a dude in a threeway.
I miss him so much. He died the way he lived, secretly flaming."
"When my husband's grandma passed and they were going through her house, they found shoe boxes with everyone's names on them. Inside were just the most random things, toys they had played with, recipes they liked, scraps of fabric from old blankets, just little bits of their entire lives in these boxes she had been collecting for years and years.
My husband brought his box and another one home, which I thought was maybe one she had started for our son, but it was for me. Obviously, she didn't have my childhood stuff, but she had recipes I liked of hers, the ultrasound picture from the baby we lost, little 'Beauty and the Beast' trinkets (my favorite movie), and purple flowers.
It was so sweet and so touching to think that even though she only knew me for 10 years, she thought enough about me to put that box together. None of the other in-laws had one, just me. I loved her very much, and I truly enjoyed talking to her and hearing her stories. I never realized until then that it meant so much to her and that she cared about me that way."
"I had a friend disappear two years ago, and his body was found several states away about four months later.
After he went missing, his parents got into his apartment and he'd packed up most of his stuff into boxes giving them to different people. His parents each got one, brother, sister, a few friends, and I got a small box. He included a note to please honor his request to not open the boxes and give them to the people they were for. They held the boxes until his body was found.
His parents dropped my box by my house after the funeral, and we talked for a bit. He'd had some mental issues and they were glad he felt he was finally at peace even though it ended this way.
Going through the box, he gave me some Playstation games we'd played together, a small lego set of a car I'd given him for Christmas when we were 13 or 14. the last thing in the box was a notebook. I opened it and it was a bunch of short stories he'd written. I paged through it and the stories started getting violent and scary. The last few pages were drawings of dismembered people and animals. It looked like Patrick Bateman's planner at the end of 'American Psycho.'
He'd always been a little off and taken medicine for it as long as I'd known him. We would talk a few times a month, but I didn't know it had gotten as bad as it did for him.
I miss him and am sad he's gone, but I'm sadder he thought this was the only thing he could do."
"My mother passed away a few weeks ago. We haven't cleared out her stuff yet since I live with my dad in their house, but I know for a fact where she hid her adult toys and naughty magazines so I've wrapped those up and hid them in my room until I can find somewhere to dispose of them. She and my dad didn't have an active bedroom life because he has an issue, but she was open with me about where she kept stuff and we even joked to each other about what sites had the best bargains on toys.
Before she passed, however, like a day before, we found out she'd been gambling thousands of dollars worth of her inheritance away. She was so full on morphine and things in the end, I honestly don't think she did it on purpose; she probably meant to type $20 but accidentally type $200.
And something else I've found on her laptop, which I've deleted and will take to my grave - or at least until dad's not around anymore one day. Nothing awful or evil like child smut or embellishment, or even evidence of her cheating. But what was there, if my dad found out, would break him to pieces if he knew. She had depression for years before cancer took her. She wrote a lot about it and some of the stuff she said was really harrowing to read. It'd kill my dad to know what she said about him."
"My great aunt was an architectural photographer for various magazines for most of her life. When her partner died, we found dozens of boxes of slides - like actual slides you'd use a projector for - of what must've been every project she'd ever done. She had them turned into slides like she wanted to show off every cover of better homes and gardens she ever shot plus all the alternates. It was weird.
Also, though this was something we knew existed, we found great-grandma's 'neck massager' that she bought out of some magazine stuffed into the couch cushions. She found it in one of those magazines that sell as seen on TV crap labeled as a 'personal massager' and very innocently thought it meant an actual massager. she'd bring it out when everyone was around and turn it on and rub her neck with it.
Now every Christmas we hand it out to a new unsuspecting victim, and they get the pleasure of opening a massive, hard plastic beige adult toy in front of everyone."
"The night my mom passed, we found an envelope from an insurance company. She'd hidden the fact that she had maintained a life insurance policy, naming my dad the beneficiary.
They'd been through a bankruptcy. He thought all policies were canceled. It ended up being worth $100,000. Good one, Mom."
"We found a blood-stained German cross pin/medal with an old yellowed note in my grandpa's handwriting saying: 'taken from a German soldier, Aachen, October 1944.'
It's probably not that strange, considering that my grandpa was in the army during WWII, but it was a bit chilling. He was always so gentle and mild, it was strange to think of him taking a 'souvenir' from a soldier he had killed.
It seemed too bloodthirsty for the type of man he was."
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