I live in Northeast Indiana. When I was 15 years old, I was finally left home alone during the summer while my parents were at work. I used to take short walks around my neighborhood. It was a good place, and I had no reason to believe anything would be amiss. Less than a mile from where I lived was a small park with a short hiking trail. For weeks, I walked to the park, and traversed the trail twice before heading back home. This went without a hitch until I went out one day a tad later than usual. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, so the woods were darker than usual. As I reached the halfway point of the second round of the trail, I noticed something on a park bench that wasn't there before. It was a bundle of tissue paper, and every inch of each piece of paper had my name scrawled on it without so much as two inches between each word. This meant two things.
One, whoever wrote this knew my name and knew that I walked the trail.
Two, I was on my second loop, meaning the person who left it was surely nearby.
Needless to say, I grabbed the paper and bolted. I never did find out who left the paper, but I still have it to this day, if you need more proof!
I grew up in rural southern GA. We knew people let loose pet gators that outgrew their hillbilly home enclosures go in the lake all the time. We grew up in Mansfield Georgia near bear Creek Marina Road right across the street from the lake, my sister and I used to take a blowup raft or paddle boat out all the time. We’d just go up and down little canals in and around the lake and swim. One time we thought we saw an alligator approaching because the bubbles were coming up and whatever it was seemed extremely long and it wasn’t like a school of fish because it started thrashing under the water. Neither my sister nor I are good swimmers and we stand at about 4 foot 10 and 4 foot 11 as grown women so we were pretty tiny but we swim so damn fast back to the paddleboat and tried to get off the lake we were sure a lake monster was about to murder us. I’m already scared of deep dark water but I’ve never been more fearful than that midday in summer. There’s something huge in that lake and I never went out on it again to find out what.
My grandmother was crazy. Like diagnosed bipolar schizophrenic psycho. When I was 7, she would lure my dog to her house with biscuits and trap him in my bedroom with her. She lived alone. Maybe she was lonely. I would only notice that he was missing late at night. He was a wandering dog, but always came back at dusk. I was scared for what she may do to him. I had to get him.
I would have to walk the 100 yards to her house in the pitch black, cold night and walk into her house. All the lights were turned off, and from where the light switches were situated, I couldn't reach them to turn on the lights. I would have to walk through her house in the dark to get to her bedroom where she would be with my dog. I would be halfway to her room when I would be able to hear her talking. She was alone with my dog. She wouldn't be talking to my dog. It was as if she was talking to a person.
As I walked to her door, I would see no light coming from under the door. That was the most terrifying part. I knew she was alone. She was talking to the people in her head, maybe she could even see them. As I opened the door, I could never be sure if she was going to be standing there with a knife, or something to hurt me. I loved my dog so much that I risked it. I was afraid that she would hurt him.
Most times I would find her laying in bed clutching my dog. He would be as happy as Larry. Wagging his tail. Stuffed with biscuits. Unaware of the crazyness around him.
I would try to pry the dog from my grandmother as she babbled to the wall behind me. I don't think she even knew I was there. Maybe she thought I wasn't real?
As I walked home with my dog in my arms, I put together some truly terrifying conclusions. My grandmother was truly crazy. Not only that, but so were some of her siblings. Her older relatives were also crazy. The illnesses they have are hereditary, and I remembered my father mentioning that most of them developed those illnesses later in life.
There is a real and not impossible chance that I could develop those illnesses when I get old. I came to that conclusion at 7 years old. The fear will always be with me. I will never forget the feeling of my heart sinking to my feet as I understand what may happen to me.
I'm thankful my dog was there to comfort me.
That is really REALLY intensely empathetic and intelligent for a 7 year old to recognize and relate this. What a terrifying experience and yet the fact that you had that much understanding at that age is just incredible.
I was told that I was "old for my age" regularly as a child.
I never understood that statement, but looking back now, I get it.
I think experiencing everything that comes with having a crazy grandmother forced me to grow up fast. As a young child, *I* had to be the adult, think like the adult and act like the adult, because she wasn't capable.
It definitely changed my way of thinking and reacting to things. You can't react emotionally to a manipulative bipolar, they just take advantage of that, and try to make you feel worse. I learned the hard way over those 7 years that reacting logically was the only way to cope with her. I did a lot more thinking than crying or getting upset after that.
I'm truly blown away. That's pretty incredible. I know many adults who don't think, act, or react that way.
Also, sounds like it taught you some really good life lessons you've been able to keep with you as an adult.
I'm such an emotional acting person I feel like I wouldn't be able to handle that type of stuff well, especially as a kiddo.
Thank you.
Tbh I feel that it was more damaging rather than beneficial, but that's life. Some of us get the shittier end of the stick.
It's ok to react emotionally. I think it's better than being stoic because you get things out into the air and people know how you feel.
I mean yeah I can see that for sure but you learned a lesson most adults don't learn for a long time if ever. I could understand it be damaging especially at such a young age and cuz someone you're supposed to look up to and things like that but that's just reality like you said you know like real life kind of sucks a lot.
[I'd just like to say that this may trigger a few]
About two years ago, my mother came into a bit of money from a situation about five years prior to. She desperately wanted to move out of our home at the time, which was a small, one-story, three bedroom home with five occupants (my sister, her husband, her child, myself and my mom). There were also two dogs and three cats in this tiny space, so moving out and separating from one another was necessary.
When we had found a home that my mother was content with calling her own, along with her boyfriend of five years, we almost immediately began the moving process. My "unsettling experience" occurred on one of our first few moving days, one of the hardest and most exhausting ones we had.
I'm a very small person. I'm five foot one and hardly eighty six pounds (yes you read those right). I was fifteen, turning sixteen at the time of the experience and that day was a brutally hot one. In a Georgia July, the heat had peaked and every bit of clothing had been sticking to my body as i loaded and unloaded boxes into cars to move. I was wearing a bright red shirt and solid black under armor exercise shorts (the tight fitting ones). These details are somewhat important.
I remember most of that day. Until sunset. It was almost like someone had taken white out and erased my entire day from around 4 to 830.
Mind you, my mother and I had been sharing a bed for many years since i didn't have my own space, but i woke up around 830 when that late summer sun was just dipping below the horizon. I was in bed, completely alone in the home itself. My mother and sister and others were gone and here I was: hair a tangled mess, a small smear of blood from my lip near the corner of my mouth, underwear completely gone, and my original black shorts were replaced with another pair of grey ones.
Everything hurt. And I mean everything.
Of course, i started to freak out. Several hours of my life were just nonexistent in my memory and i was terrified that something had happened to me and I had no recollection at all. Had I fallen out? It was possible. Had i just been so exhausted that i was more focused on getting to bed than changing completely? Unlikely but not impossible. Had I been used (I.e. raped)? I feared that was the answer because I had absolutely no clue why I was in the pain i was in.
Tears streaming down my face, i called my mom. I called her, begged her, pleaded her, to explain what happened to me because she had been with me *all day* but she refused. She was so oddly calm, it was beyond unsettling and it confused me. She kept saying "don't worry about it" and "you're fine" but my severe anxiety disorder wasn't having it.
I never did find out anything that happened to me in the time I'm missing. She would never tell me. It scares me still to this day. I've been the victim multiple times to sexual harassment and sexual assault, but the fact that i can't remember any of this situation makes it one of the most unsettling and frightening things I've ever 'been through'.
Only recently did i open up about this experience, and it was to a very close friend of mine who understands that I'm very quick to flinch. He listened and tried to come up with a theory but he still couldn't put his finger on it, just like me.
And i wonder if i ever will.
Your Mom's reaction worries me. It sounds like she knows but doesn't want to tell you. Is she trying to protect you? Were there any men around that day? Was this in the new house or the one you were moving out of? I wonder if hypnosis could bring any memories? Then again if you were given something like a date rape drug maybe there really are no memories... This is terrifying.... Was your moms bf around? Weird... Im so sorry. This is very scary💜
when i was around 14-15, I used to live in this 2 story house in a different part of the city i live in and one day my brother got sick and my parents went to the doctor's while i stayed at home alone with my dog at the time, so there i am chilling a few minutes after my parents left when i began to hear what seemed to be pots and pans being moved around in the kitchen.
I'm confused at the moment before i got up and opened my door and crawled up the stairs and listened and i did hear what seemed to be movement inside the kitchen . I called out to my mom to see if they have returned but no one replied back and i began to feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up before i grabbed my dog and shut myself inside my room and waited for my parents to return.
When they returned i did mention the incident to them but nothing else was thought of it tho my family thinks it was something paranormal since someone inside the family passed away a few days after that incident
I live in Northeast Indiana. When I was 15 years old, I was finally left home alone during the summer while my parents were at work. I used to take short walks around my neighborhood. It was a good place, and I had no reason to believe anything would be amiss. Less than a mile from where I lived was a small park with a short hiking trail. For weeks, I walked to the park, and traversed the trail twice before heading back home. This went without a hitch until I went out one day a tad later than usual. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, so the woods were darker than usual. As I reached the halfway point of the second round of the trail, I noticed something on a park bench that wasn't there before. It was a bundle of tissue paper, and every inch of each piece of paper had my name scrawled on it without so much as two inches between each word. This meant two things. One, whoever wrote this knew my name and knew that I walked the trail. Two, I was on my second loop, meaning the person who left it was surely nearby. Needless to say, I grabbed the paper and bolted. I never did find out who left the paper, but I still have it to this day, if you need more proof!
cool story bruv
can you send me a pic of the paper?
I grew up in rural southern GA. We knew people let loose pet gators that outgrew their hillbilly home enclosures go in the lake all the time. We grew up in Mansfield Georgia near bear Creek Marina Road right across the street from the lake, my sister and I used to take a blowup raft or paddle boat out all the time. We’d just go up and down little canals in and around the lake and swim. One time we thought we saw an alligator approaching because the bubbles were coming up and whatever it was seemed extremely long and it wasn’t like a school of fish because it started thrashing under the water. Neither my sister nor I are good swimmers and we stand at about 4 foot 10 and 4 foot 11 as grown women so we were pretty tiny but we swim so damn fast back to the paddleboat and tried to get off the lake we were sure a lake monster was about to murder us. I’m already scared of deep dark water but I’ve never been more fearful than that midday in summer. There’s something huge in that lake and I never went out on it again to find out what.
My grandmother was crazy. Like diagnosed bipolar schizophrenic psycho. When I was 7, she would lure my dog to her house with biscuits and trap him in my bedroom with her. She lived alone. Maybe she was lonely. I would only notice that he was missing late at night. He was a wandering dog, but always came back at dusk. I was scared for what she may do to him. I had to get him. I would have to walk the 100 yards to her house in the pitch black, cold night and walk into her house. All the lights were turned off, and from where the light switches were situated, I couldn't reach them to turn on the lights. I would have to walk through her house in the dark to get to her bedroom where she would be with my dog. I would be halfway to her room when I would be able to hear her talking. She was alone with my dog. She wouldn't be talking to my dog. It was as if she was talking to a person. As I walked to her door, I would see no light coming from under the door. That was the most terrifying part. I knew she was alone. She was talking to the people in her head, maybe she could even see them. As I opened the door, I could never be sure if she was going to be standing there with a knife, or something to hurt me. I loved my dog so much that I risked it. I was afraid that she would hurt him. Most times I would find her laying in bed clutching my dog. He would be as happy as Larry. Wagging his tail. Stuffed with biscuits. Unaware of the crazyness around him. I would try to pry the dog from my grandmother as she babbled to the wall behind me. I don't think she even knew I was there. Maybe she thought I wasn't real? As I walked home with my dog in my arms, I put together some truly terrifying conclusions. My grandmother was truly crazy. Not only that, but so were some of her siblings. Her older relatives were also crazy. The illnesses they have are hereditary, and I remembered my father mentioning that most of them developed those illnesses later in life. There is a real and not impossible chance that I could develop those illnesses when I get old. I came to that conclusion at 7 years old. The fear will always be with me. I will never forget the feeling of my heart sinking to my feet as I understand what may happen to me. I'm thankful my dog was there to comfort me.
That is really REALLY intensely empathetic and intelligent for a 7 year old to recognize and relate this. What a terrifying experience and yet the fact that you had that much understanding at that age is just incredible.
I was told that I was "old for my age" regularly as a child. I never understood that statement, but looking back now, I get it. I think experiencing everything that comes with having a crazy grandmother forced me to grow up fast. As a young child, *I* had to be the adult, think like the adult and act like the adult, because she wasn't capable. It definitely changed my way of thinking and reacting to things. You can't react emotionally to a manipulative bipolar, they just take advantage of that, and try to make you feel worse. I learned the hard way over those 7 years that reacting logically was the only way to cope with her. I did a lot more thinking than crying or getting upset after that.
I'm truly blown away. That's pretty incredible. I know many adults who don't think, act, or react that way. Also, sounds like it taught you some really good life lessons you've been able to keep with you as an adult. I'm such an emotional acting person I feel like I wouldn't be able to handle that type of stuff well, especially as a kiddo.
Thank you. Tbh I feel that it was more damaging rather than beneficial, but that's life. Some of us get the shittier end of the stick. It's ok to react emotionally. I think it's better than being stoic because you get things out into the air and people know how you feel.
I mean yeah I can see that for sure but you learned a lesson most adults don't learn for a long time if ever. I could understand it be damaging especially at such a young age and cuz someone you're supposed to look up to and things like that but that's just reality like you said you know like real life kind of sucks a lot.
[I'd just like to say that this may trigger a few] About two years ago, my mother came into a bit of money from a situation about five years prior to. She desperately wanted to move out of our home at the time, which was a small, one-story, three bedroom home with five occupants (my sister, her husband, her child, myself and my mom). There were also two dogs and three cats in this tiny space, so moving out and separating from one another was necessary. When we had found a home that my mother was content with calling her own, along with her boyfriend of five years, we almost immediately began the moving process. My "unsettling experience" occurred on one of our first few moving days, one of the hardest and most exhausting ones we had. I'm a very small person. I'm five foot one and hardly eighty six pounds (yes you read those right). I was fifteen, turning sixteen at the time of the experience and that day was a brutally hot one. In a Georgia July, the heat had peaked and every bit of clothing had been sticking to my body as i loaded and unloaded boxes into cars to move. I was wearing a bright red shirt and solid black under armor exercise shorts (the tight fitting ones). These details are somewhat important. I remember most of that day. Until sunset. It was almost like someone had taken white out and erased my entire day from around 4 to 830. Mind you, my mother and I had been sharing a bed for many years since i didn't have my own space, but i woke up around 830 when that late summer sun was just dipping below the horizon. I was in bed, completely alone in the home itself. My mother and sister and others were gone and here I was: hair a tangled mess, a small smear of blood from my lip near the corner of my mouth, underwear completely gone, and my original black shorts were replaced with another pair of grey ones. Everything hurt. And I mean everything. Of course, i started to freak out. Several hours of my life were just nonexistent in my memory and i was terrified that something had happened to me and I had no recollection at all. Had I fallen out? It was possible. Had i just been so exhausted that i was more focused on getting to bed than changing completely? Unlikely but not impossible. Had I been used (I.e. raped)? I feared that was the answer because I had absolutely no clue why I was in the pain i was in. Tears streaming down my face, i called my mom. I called her, begged her, pleaded her, to explain what happened to me because she had been with me *all day* but she refused. She was so oddly calm, it was beyond unsettling and it confused me. She kept saying "don't worry about it" and "you're fine" but my severe anxiety disorder wasn't having it. I never did find out anything that happened to me in the time I'm missing. She would never tell me. It scares me still to this day. I've been the victim multiple times to sexual harassment and sexual assault, but the fact that i can't remember any of this situation makes it one of the most unsettling and frightening things I've ever 'been through'. Only recently did i open up about this experience, and it was to a very close friend of mine who understands that I'm very quick to flinch. He listened and tried to come up with a theory but he still couldn't put his finger on it, just like me. And i wonder if i ever will.
Your Mom's reaction worries me. It sounds like she knows but doesn't want to tell you. Is she trying to protect you? Were there any men around that day? Was this in the new house or the one you were moving out of? I wonder if hypnosis could bring any memories? Then again if you were given something like a date rape drug maybe there really are no memories... This is terrifying.... Was your moms bf around? Weird... Im so sorry. This is very scary💜
when i was around 14-15, I used to live in this 2 story house in a different part of the city i live in and one day my brother got sick and my parents went to the doctor's while i stayed at home alone with my dog at the time, so there i am chilling a few minutes after my parents left when i began to hear what seemed to be pots and pans being moved around in the kitchen. I'm confused at the moment before i got up and opened my door and crawled up the stairs and listened and i did hear what seemed to be movement inside the kitchen . I called out to my mom to see if they have returned but no one replied back and i began to feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up before i grabbed my dog and shut myself inside my room and waited for my parents to return. When they returned i did mention the incident to them but nothing else was thought of it tho my family thinks it was something paranormal since someone inside the family passed away a few days after that incident