People Are Confessing That One Time a "Gut Feeling" Saved Their Lives

Back in 1978 my mom and I were supposed to get on a flight.

She got all weird, refused to get on the plane and made a big drama at the airport at the ticket counter. (she flat our GROWLED at the woman at the ticket counter to get our luggage back and that we were "NOT GETTING ON THAT PLANE."

The manager came over to sooth my mom, he sent the counter agent woman to get the luggage (that had already gone down the conveyer and through the wall). She was rather annoyed with us as she left.

The manager then called a man and woman from standby and asked if they wanted our seats. Oh yes! They needed to get back to Portland right away and were happy to take any seat!

They thanked us. My mom dragged me away to wait for our bags and was very quiet.

We got a rental, drove to my Grandmother's, surprised her, and spent the next couple of hours chatting.

Then my mom says, "Oh my gosh! We never called your father!"

She calls home and from across the room I can hear my dad yelling out of the (1970s styled rotary dial up phone-olive green, if I recall correctly) phone speaker:

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Where are you?! I thought you were dead!"

My dad was supposed to be with us, but had stayed home because he wasn't feeling well.

He knew we were sitting in the front row of first class-he had to sit there to stretch his legs-medical condition, long story.

The flight had crashed. When my father called in, they confirmed me were on the plane. In the front row of first class, or so he thought.

The media was already saying the fatalities from the flight were the first rows of first class.

The airlines did not confirm we were dead but my father thought the worst.

He had been waiting over an hour for confirmation from the airlines.

During that time we were chatting and hugging grandma and helping her figure out shopping and my mom offered to get take out, my grandma (a rather foul mouthed, 4'6" Irish Cafeteria Lady) brought everyone a beer.

I got to have a coke.

In a big bottle. We were all on the second round when my mom remembered to call my dad.

Time wise we would have flown home, got the car out of parking, driven home, and been there for an hour, basically.

We turned on the news. My mom also called the family member we'd been visiting-who also thought we were dead.

And I looked at my mom, stared at her. For a long time, but she wouldn't look at me.

Finally she turned and stared me straight in the eye and asked me "What?"

I said, "You knew didn't you?"

And she glared a hole through me, took a drink of beer, and said, "We will never discuss this again." And proceeded to get drunk.

The drunkest I'd ever seen her in my 14 years of existence.

Her "hunch" saved our lives.

Username: TeachOfTheYear

This will probably get buried in the comments, but in the off chance this is read, I'm not the best story teller.

I'm pretty certain I was almost a victim of sex trafficking. I grew up in an area where sex trafficking was/still is very high.

I was 14 and in a book store looking for something to read.

I was sitting on the ground looking at some books on the bottom shelf when I just happened to look up and caught eyes with a guy passing the aisle.

He passed the same aisle about 3 times, each time looking right at me, when he finally walked down the aisle and sat a few feet away. He wasn't looking at any of the books.

Just sitting there. I remember feeling really, really uneasy.

I kept telling myself to not look at him so he couldn't see my face.

Out of nowhere, He suddenly started asking me questions: my name, my age, where I went to school, where my parents were.

Every answer I told him was a lie.

I specifically remember that I was carrying a purse that had my initials embroidered on it, so when he asked my name, I discreetly grabbed it and put it on the other side of me so he wouldn't know I was lying about my name.

After asking me questions, he said in a very low voice, "You know, you should be very careful about who you tell all this information about you.

You really shouldnt talk to strangers.

Luckily, I'm not dangerous and you can trust me." I felt absolutely sick to my stomach when he said that.

I just wanted to scream for someone to come down that aisle so I wasnt alone with this weirdo anymore. I didnt say anything. I didnt move.

I just pretended to look at the back of the book that was in my hands.

He eventually got up and left. I immediately called my dad and told him to come into the book store so I didnt have to walk to his truck by myself.

I was so scared he was watching me.

I could feel him still watching me. I told my dad what happened, but I dont think he really understood the magnitude of the situation.

After my dad came inside and i paid for my book, we walked back to his truck.

I was on high alert for this guy, thinking he was just waiting for an opportunity to kidnap me.

As we were pulling out of the parking lot, I saw him.

He was in a green SUV, watching me in the truck with me dad. He pulled out behind us, followed us for a couple turns, then disappeared.

The whole time, I was telling my dad it was the guy. My dad stayed cautious but didnt end up doing anything since he stopped following us.

Luckily, I never told him my name, where I actually went to school, what my age really was, or anything for him to possibly track me down.

It was the scariest thing that's ever happened to me.

I knew from the moment that I locked eyes with him for a brief second that there was something terribly wrong with him.

Username: loribeth25

My friend was in an apartment building fire during my birthday celebration.

She wasn't at my party yet and I got this bad feeling in my gut. I went out to my car to get my phone and saw flames coming out of all the windows. It was raining and I was holding a piece of paper over my head.

It took me way too long to figure out that that weird looking building was where my friend lived. It didn't even look like the same place. Everything was lit up, moving in slow motion.

There was a woman next to me screaming about her babies. Turns out her three young adult children died in the fire, along with four other people.

My friend ended up being okay (they had knocked out the air conditioner and dragged her out her window) but she said our other friend didn't even have a smoke detector, so if she hadn't come over to get ready for my party, she wouldn't have known in time.

I got home that night, covered in smoke smell from hugging the shit out of her.

The next day, I went to buy a smoke detector, but saw that the combination carbon monoxide detector was only a little more. I thought, well $xx extra dollars vs. my life? I'll just get it. I didn't have any gas appliances in my apartment, buy I never wanted to see anything like the previous night again. It had really stuck with me. *Better safe than sorry, right?*

Fast forward one week. I was up watching Futurama with my then boyfriend and the detector went off, "BEEP, BEEP CARBON MONOXIDE." I instantly felt weird about it.

What if there was a reason I had a feeling to buy that detector? My bf is all, "What even is carbon monoxide?" I explained.

"How? You can't even see or smell it? How does it exist?" and "There's no way you need this thing a week after you bought it." He dismissed me completely.

*I'm trusting my gut on this because look what happened last time I trusted it.* I called the fire department across the street. No answer. I called 9-1-1 and they asked for my address which I didn't have.

"The FD is across the street. I can literally see their lawn chair's out and the lights are on." Can't help me.

So I called my mother in another city to get my address. I hadn't been in that apartment long and she had a copy of my lease.

Keep in mind that I was in my early 20s and it was a weird address - something like 302B Rear. "It's 2AM. It's probably just defective.

Just take out the batteries and go to bed," my mother suggested. "NO. I have a bad feeling. Can you please give me my address? I'll go away, promise" *Not gonna back down, people. Just cooperate.*

9-1-1 got the firemen to me real quick. They actually drove their truck down my little alley which we all thought was funny. I told them, "I'm so sorry! I'm probably just paranoid."

They came in and tested. "That can't be right," the one guy said and he went to reset/calibrate, whatever he said, while another one chatted about my cats looking at their flashing lights out the window.

The other guy came back and fiddled with his ghost-busters-looking gadget, "Get your kitties and get out of here right now." *Ok, so this is serious.*

One asked where the other apartments were and I directed them up a few floors and down to the ones in the windowless basement.

The one guy helped me pack the cats in purses while the other and a guy from outside ran downstairs. I heard shouting as we went to sit in my car and wait.

Apparently the people in the basement were unconscious. They had to physically remove them and they were taken to the hospital.

It turns out no one else in the building of about 15 apartments had a carbon monoxide detector. Upon further investigation, they found that most of them didn't even have smoke detectors.

The news stations descended. I became hometown hero (it wasn't my home town) and the guy who owned the building said that if there weren't detectors, it was because the tenants had taken them down... so nothing happened to him in the end.

BUT all the people and all the cats were saved, so I think it was a good day overall.

Trust your gut, people. If I hadn't, a lot of people would probably have had their last sleep that night.

Username: kimblim

I was a bail bonding agent in college and one night I was in the midst of filing folders.

I got a call from the jail around the corner. I answered and the inmate was polite over the phone (you'd be surprised how many people can muster an heir of arrogance from inside a cell) and asked me to call some people to bond him out.

He gave me the numbers which I wrote down on a pad near me and finished up the last few files that I had.

I got back to the desk and pulled up the guys information. He was in for Aggravated Battery and had white supremacist/Nazi tattoos all over his face.

Setting the scene: I worked in a black owned Bail Bonding office and am black myself.

I was a college student and due to the owners poor judgement I commonly worked the office alone and it was about 7 o'clock in the evening and I wasn't due to get off until 11pm.

All adjacent business in the same area had been closed for a few hours by the time I got that call.

Well, this prompted a call to my boss just to cover my own ass before doing anything with this damn bond.

Me: "Do we bond out blatant white supremacists? "

Boss: "Hell No. They'll come in, see that were black and wint check in as mandated and may cause other issues. Why do you ask?"

Me: "Cool, cool....look this dude up."

I gave her the inmates name and she said hell no again.

Boss: "Don't call his people either. Don't outright say we won't do his bond. Just stay cordial. We dont want them coming up to the office starting shit"

Me: "Got it."

We talked about other mundane office stuff and disconnected

The Nazi inmate actually called about 3 times between the time that I hung up with her and moved on to other tasks.

Each time asking if I called his folks, how much his bond would be and how long until I get a chance to call them.

Me: "Oh. I gave them a call but no one answered.

Your bond will be 4,500 up front. I've had a few more calls and bonds to write it may be awhile"

He hung up and we had that same convo about 7 times total.

Its about 9:30 and I'm keying info into onto the computer and I get a really uncomfortable feeling. Hands a bit shaky, heart racing...panicky almost. I've never felt this before. I want to leave the office NOW.

I call my boss tell her I'm feeling really uncomfortable and ask if I can leave. She says that's fine and to just transfer the phone to her for the night.

I start shutting down the office and what usually takes me about 10 minutes took about 2. I set the alarm and walk out to my car. I get in, start it and pull onto the main street.

As soon as I get on the street I realize that in my haste I left my Viola in the office. I need it for an early morning quartet session so flip a U-turn to go back to the office.

As I'm pulling up there are 3...for lack of a better term...redneck trucks with Confederate flags and other super white shit on them with about 7 guys total...all are covered in tats like ol' nazi inmate.

I zoomed my black ass right on past and decided to text my professor who was coaching the quartet session to let her know why I will not have my instrument.

Username: wickedviolist

One time when I was about 8 or 9, I was out walking the neighborhood with my best friend at the time and her brother. Now I was and still am terrified of tornadoes, despite living in the middle of tornado ally.

When we had left the house it was clear and sunny with a few clouds.

By the time we had walked up to the nearby school and were a good ways out from their house I started to feel awful.

There were a few more clouds now and the air was starting to feel just a bit colder.

Honestly the weather shift was so absolutely slight it all could have been explained by the fact that it was later in the evening/clouds were covering the sun, but in my 8-9 year old brain something was seriously wrong in the air.

So wrong that I started telling my friends that we needed to go home, NOW.

They already knew I was a wuss when it came to even the slightest breeze so it made sense for them to say I was overreacting.

They tried calming me down but I felt that we were wasting time and my panic was only getting worse the longer we were out.

I knew it would take awhile to get back to the house, even at a full sprint.

Eventually I was told that I should probably just go back and they would continue walking and see me later in the evening. I couldn't do anything more so I sprinted back to the house as fast as I could.

When I got back the weather was still fairly clear and a few more clouds had come in to cover the sky now. Nothing too ominous.

Not a single sign of a wall cloud or one of those giant towers showing a huge storm.

I walked inside and went to the basement where our parents were hanging out and explained that I wasn't feeling good about the weather and ran home and that my friends were still going to walk around.

Just as I finished explaining and sat down on the couch with them the tv changed to that awful, awful alert sound.

I remember glancing outside and in just that short bit of time the sky had turned completely dark and had a wickedly green hue.

The wind was absolutely insane and was whipping branches off the trees.

The channel we were on had flipped to the local news who were calling a tornado warning for our area and were demanding everyone get to cover.

Now this is the age before cell phones. There had been no previous watches or warnings all day. I was home safe but my friends were still somewhere in the neighborhood and no one knew where.

Their parents and mine were all rushing towards the front door to get in their cars to find them, when someone bothered to look out the back window and saw the actual funnel heading towards us, probably only a few minutes away.

Needless to say we were all panicked. But just as the first couple of people got to their cars and started them up I saw my friend and her brother running down the street heading towards the house at full sprint. We rushed them inside and took cover.

The tornado blew alot of trees down, and some siding off buildings I dont remember what classification it was but it still sticks out to me to this day as one of the most destructive tornados I've seen.

Needless to say we would've been in some extreme danger had anyone been left outside.

I found out later that my friends were originally going to wander down a path that would've taken them twice the amount of time to get back when I was still with them.

Had they taken that path even at a full sprint they would not have been able to make it back before the tornado.

Luckily, my panic had them a little bit spooked and they stuck within the neighborhood and only ended up walking just a bit longer before the weather changed and they hoofed it back to the house.

I dont know if I hadn't freaked out and felt so bad that anyone would have died, but I do know it was a dangerous situation with the potential to be deadly.

Username: Polar534

**I have two that come to mind.** One involves sleeping in and avoiding getting stabbed in the head, and the other involves finding out that I have blood clots shortly before a planned drive half way across the country.

At the time, I had been on the weight loss train for a while, never missed an early morning workout, but that morning-despite feeling AOK, I decided I would sleep in that day.

It wasn't a feeling of dread or anything that kept me from leaving the apartment that day, but it was a strong "I should sleep another hour".

Well, at the intersection I would have been at, at the time that I would have been there, someone was randomly stabbed in the head (Rogers Park in Chicago).

I learned of the stabbing a couple days later.

Stabbings and shootings were not uncommon in that neighborhood, but they were typically targeted.

So, I counted my lucky stars that I decided to sleep in that day.

I started walking to the other train station for my early morning workouts from that point on.

**The blood clot story.**

I've shared this story a couple of times on here and facebook. This is still very vivid in my mind despite it happening nearly four years ago. So, I was big into powerlifting.

I trained four days per week. I was active in general. I was also 29. Not exactly the poster child for blood clots.

On Monday, I noticed that my right leg felt off during my squat workout. It was like something wasn't engaging correctly, my balance felt a bit off, and that leg was taking a while to recover.

I went through a bench press workout on Tuesday with my leg still feeling a bit off. Wednesday was normal besides my ankle starting to hurt.

Thursday it started to feel like I was walking on a tac. Friday-deadlift day: I knew something was wrong and it felt different than any injury that I ever had. I felt like I couldn't active the muscles surrounding my right ankle.

I was really stubborn about going to medical back then, but as soon as I realized it felt different than any other injury that I've had, I made a same day appointment with medical.

I get there-the Doc (I still remember her name), is a bit perplexed so she sends me for Xrays to rule out some sort of fracture, and then to rule out blood clots-sent me to the blood lab.

It was a Friday afternoon, so not a whole lot would get done the rest of the day.

They took blood and told me they'd call if they find anything.

That was a Friday, the following Tuesday, I was at the smoke pit at work on a break (I vape), and I noticed I had a ton of missed calls and voicemails from medical.

Each one said, a variation of "Petty Officer CMac86, when you get this report to the E.R. immediately", "PO CMac, I hope you're still in the area, when you get this immediately report to the E.R.-they will be expecting you".

It was around 10AM. My stomach dropped.

It is never a good feeling to be told that the E.R. will be expecting you, and then the tone of their voices made me think "This is an uh oh scenario".

I didn't leave the hospital until 5PM that day.

They ran more blood work, did an ultrasound on my leg (surprise to me: it was from ankle to groin), gave me my first injection, and then I was going back and forth between the E.R., pharmacy, and my main Doctor's office to be counseled on how to give myself the injection as well as what the side effects are, what the allergic reaction(s) would look like, and what to expect.

They asked me what I would have done if I wouldn't have gotten checked out, so I said, "Well, I was supposed to PCS (transfer duty stations) at the end of the month, so I was going to drive to the East Coast".

I won't ever forget the nurse's response, "It is a good thing that you came in. If you would have driven that far with undiagnosed blood clots in your leg, you could have died on the drive".

Username: CMac86

I'm going into work early one morning. It's about 4:30am, and I'm almost on E. I have plenty of time to get to work, so I pull into a gas station.

I see a guy leaning on the wall just hanging around and I got a feeling he was a beggar. In my city at that time there'd been a huge uptick of people begging for money in the parking lots of gas stations and grocery stores.

They come up to you, talk to you like they're your best friend, engage in a bit of small talk, and then start in with the "listen, I'm kinda stranded and I just need some bus fare."

They stick out like a sore thumb. Most people in a parking lot have a specific direction they're traveling and these people are just wandering around.

Anyway, I pull up to a pump and whoever's working the night shift is just *blasting* music at the pumps.

Just as I'm about to squeeze the pump trigger, I look up and see the aforementioned loiterer approaching me and talking to me.

I walk closer to him to get out from under the speakers.

He asks me if I have jumper cables.

Now, I should also mention there was a cargo van in a parking spot near where he was standing, so I assumed this was his vehicle.

Anyway, I tell him I don't have cables.

Then he asks me if I could call his girlfriend to come pick him up to take him to work. I oblige.

He gives me the number, I call, and I get "this voice mail box is full and cannot accept any new messages at this time." I tell him what happened, and he gives me another number. I call that number, same story.

At this point, I'm starting to picture those voice mail boxes being full of messages from chubby white guys like me.

My spidey senses start tingling. He hasn't asked me for money.

Asking me if I could give him a jump made him seem legit.

But why would he have two cell phone numbers for his girlfriend? Then, he hits me with it.

"You think you could give me a ride back to my car?"

I'm starting to feel something much more sinister than begging is happening here.

"Yeah, so, my car died up at (gas station up the road) about an hour ago so someone let me borrow this bike to get down here, but it's so cold, man, you think you could just take me back up there?"

I reluctantly agree, because my personality is one where I *really* don't want people to think I'm a jerk, but alarm bells are going off like crazy. I knew the gas station he was referring to.

For one, it's in a secluded, low-traffic, poorly-lit area.

Second, I knew that gas station closes down at night, so there would have been no reason for him to be there.

Third, this was late winter, so who the fuck would be riding their bike around at 3 am willing to let a complete stranger borrow it?

The guy seemed appreciative, then told me he was just going to ask the clerk inside if he could leave the bike inside the gas station so it doesn't get stolen.

The second he went inside, I ran to the gas pump, pulled the nozzle out (thankfully I hadn't pumped any yet), put it back on the pump, ran around the car, hopped in, and took the fuck off.

I was mentally kicking myself for almost being talked into going to a second location. *Never go to a second location.*

Username: [deleted]

I was a bail bonding agent in college and one night I was in the midst of filing folders.

I got a call from the jail around the corner. I answered and the inmate was polite over the phone (you'd be surprised how many people can muster an heir of arrogance from inside a cell) and asked me to call some people to bond him out.

He gave me the numbers which I wrote down on a pad near me and finished up the last few files that I had.

I got back to the desk and pulled up the guys information. He was in for Aggravated Battery and had white supremacist/Nazi tattoos all over his face.

Setting the scene: I worked in a black owned Bail Bonding office and am black myself.

I was a college student and due to the owners poor judgement I commonly worked the office alone and it was about 7 o'clock in the evening and I wasn't due to get off until 11pm.

All adjacent business in the same area had been closed for a few hours by the time I got that call.

Well, this prompted a call to my boss just to cover my own ass before doing anything with this damn bond.

Me: "Do we bond out blatant white supremacists? "

Boss: "Hell No. They'll come in, see that were black and wint check in as mandated and may cause other issues. Why do you ask?"

Me: "Cool, cool....look this dude up."

I gave her the inmates name and she said hell no again.

Boss: "Don't call his people either. Don't outright say we won't do his bond. Just stay cordial. We dont want them coming up to the office starting shit"

Me: "Got it."

We talked about other mundane office stuff and disconnected

The Nazi inmate actually called about 3 times between the time that I hung up with her and moved on to other tasks.

Each time asking if I called his folks, how much his bond would be and how long until I get a chance to call them.

Me: "Oh. I gave them a call but no one answered. Your bond will be 4,500 up front. I've had a few more calls and bonds to write it may be awhile"

He hung up and we had that same convo about 7 times total.

Its about 9:30 and I'm keying info into onto the computer and I get a really uncomfortable feeling. Hands a bit shaky, heart racing...panicky almost. I've never felt this before. I want to leave the office NOW.

I call my boss tell her I'm feeling really uncomfortable and ask if I can leave. She says that's fine and to just transfer the phone to her for the night.

I start shutting down the office and what usually takes me about 10 minutes took about 2. I set the alarm and walk out to my car. I get in, start it and pull onto the main street.

As soon as I get on the street I realize that in my haste I left my Viola in the office.

I need it for an early morning quartet session so flip a U-turn to go back to the office.

As I'm pulling up there are 3...for lack of a better term...redneck trucks with Confederate flags and other super white shit on them with about 7 guys total...all are covered in tats like ol' nazi inmate.

I zoomed my black ass right on past and decided to text my professor who was coaching the quartet session to let her know why I will not have my instrument.

Username: wickedviolist

I think I’m too late to the thread for anyone to even see this, but here goes anyway. The time my anxiety, heightened in the wake of my dad’s traumatic death, saved us all. 11-year-old me and my group of friends, that is.

It was a Friday afternoon and my friends and I walked straight into town after school. As we usually did on Fridays, to loiter around the shops and streets within the safety of our sheltered, small town. It was a freedom our parents had only recently granted us, to hang around town unsupervised.

Eventually we ended up at the toy/candy store right at the center of town. The store was owned and operated by a local man, a man who was friends with at least two of my friend’s dads, and whose children we grew up/went to school with. He immediately recognized and excitedly greeted the two girls he knew via their dads.

He was very attentive and generous towards us, continuously offering us free candies and small toys. At first I didn’t make anything of it at all, we lived in a small tight knit community and I thought he was just looking out for some friends’ daughters.

Then came the gut feeling that something was not right with this man, everything in me told me to get myself and my friends out of there. My friends clearly didn’t get the same feeling, they were entertained and clearly trusting of this man. I thought then I must be thinking too much and too cautiously.

My dad had died recently in a sudden and traumatic way and I became inclined to always anticipate worst case scenarios after that happened. I told myself to keep my gut feeling to myself because I would look crazy and ruin everyone’s fun if I voiced my concerns to my not-recently-traumatized friends. Having trauma is embarrassing when you’re 11, idk.

Anyway my gut feeling only worsened as I was looking more closely at his interactions with my friends from afar. I was sitting by myself waiting for them to be ready to leave, just watching and listening. I wanted to run out the door, but something told me if I left without my friends something bad would happen. I remember him saying a few things that struck me as incredibly creepy, but my friends thought nothing of. Like “I wish I could marry all you girls!”

He just kept giving us free stuff or coming up with something exciting to show us and while my friends were enjoying themselves I felt like he was trying to hold us hostage there with him as long as he could.

After like two hours I was beyond ready to be out of there and thankfully one of our mom’s was on her way to pick us up. When she arrived there was only enough room in the car for half of us, so those of us remaining called around to our designated adults looking for another ride. It wasn’t happening, my mom worked full time and everyone else’s’ was busy too.

That’s when the man jumped all too eagerly to offer us a ride, as well as his creepiest remark yet. It was something alluding to us going to see his house and/or hangout there. Something that I was absolutely not about to let happen. I immediately did something I’d never done before or even thought to do, I called my old ice skating coach I hadn’t seen in a year. It was the only other adults’ number I had memorized.

She answered pretty quickly surprised and curious to know why I was calling.

She asked if this meant I was taking up skating again. I replied, “Mom, mom, can you pick us up right now we’re on Main Street” ... there was a pause ... “Where are you exactly?” She asked, I said the name of the store. “I can be there in 15 minutes. First just tell me, yes or no, are you okay?” I replied, “I don’t think so,” and she told me to pretend to end the call but she would stay on the line. She was there within 5 minutes.

We left and met our friends at whichever house they’d gone to. I didn’t explain to her in the car what the situation had been until my friends got out, because I still felt pretty crazy and ashamed of being so afraid, not being able to just have fun like my friends.

I apologized to the coach too for my being crazy. She told me I did the right thing and that she was glad I called rather than accepting the man’s offers. I got out, went inside and that was that.

Until 6 months later, when the man was arrested and it was all over local news. He had sexually assaulted another young girl in our class.

She had gone into his store with a friend that “left” soon after, to get something from the deli and then come back soon after to find the store seemingly empty, the door to its back room closed whereas it had been open before, the man and girl nowhere in sight. He was assaulting her in there.

The friend didn’t know that, she was 11 and it didn’t even occur to her. Those two girls would’ve known this man just as well as I or my friends did, it was a small, tight knit community like I said earlier.

They would’ve likely had their guard down just as my friends did and maybe I would’ve too if I were all recently traumatized or whatever.

He got caught because the friend of the victim mentioned enough to her parents that prompted them to pry for every detail that eventually led them to uncover the truth and hand over to the police.

It wasn’t until his arrest that I told my friends about the feeling I had that day, that the “babysitter” I called to pick us up was actually an ice skating coach I hadn’t seen in a year.

I don’t know that it would’ve changed anything that happened afterwards, but I still wish I’d spoken up about my gut feeling then. I acted on it and we got out of there, but who knows.

It haunted me for a while thinking I should’ve said something, even spread a rumor about the man around school, anything that might’ve prevented other girls from going in there.

Or that would’ve made them proceed with caution, given reason not to trust him despite him being a well-known man/dad in town. It makes me sick. I don’t know.

Because I knew in my gut he was somehow dangerous but I didn’t stop him, I only saved myself and my friends then moved on with my life. I was too afraid of looking crazy or weird to speak it out loud, I was a fearful and insecure 11 year old girl. I don’t know.

He ruined what was left of his kids’ childhood in that town. He changed the trajectory of his victim’s life. Both his kids and his victim would receive all the scrutiny and fallout for what he did around school.

They never escaped the association to that, nor the cruelty of people insisting his kids were infected with “pedo DNA” and the victim having to hear whispers always behind her, people talking about the horrific thing that happened to her.

Username: humanbean2828

I took a gap year after secondary school to work full time and build some more bank before uni (my parents were not in a position to help with expenses). My job had me traveling up to 350 miles, at that location for 5 days, 2 off, then on to the next location. Each location repeated every 6 weeks.

My location the week this happened was a small town in NW Iowa. The town was only about 90 miles from my apartment, 60 of it interstate highway. I was sick of small, ratty motels and diner food, so I elected to commute all week.

My third day in town was one of those days where anything that could go wrong did, and in the most excruciating way possible. Finally headed to my car after 7 pm and it was raining cats and dogs. From the size of the puddles in the lot, it had been doing so for quite awhile despite the forecast from the previous night saying it wouldn't start raining until later that evening.

I was soaked to the skin, but heck, the heater worked and I could take a nice hot shower at home. Boiler heat ftw! All I had to do was get there. Bonus, there shouldn't be any traffic.

I started the car and instantly knew the day from hell wasn't over yet. Driver's side headlight was out. I would to have to get 15 miles to the nearest Walmart in torrential rain with only the one light, then get soaked again getting the damned light.

Fine. I headed out into the very dark countryside and into the next town. I was quite literally 2 stoplights from the damned Walmart when the most dedicated patrol officer in the state pulled out behind me and flipped on his lights. Yes, really.

Then a discussion occurred in which he clearly didn't believe that I was on my way to get the stupid light so I could get home to my marathon shower, whilst an actual puddle formed on the floorboards and my seat got ever more soaked because the stupid window was open to talk to the cop and the rain ... I think it might have actually started raining harder.

He finally went to his car, wrote the repair order and told me to send my proof of repair within...14 days, or something like that. No problem, as long as you don't object to a Walmart receipt for the part because I am *not* paying someone to do it for me.

Officer then actually follows me to Walmart.

This was small town Iowa, remember. They're about 10 minutes from closing. I ran in, found the stupid light, cruised through men's clothing and grabbed a cheap sweatshirt.

Next I buzzed through shoes and found the cheapest, ugliest pair of blessedly dry shoes in my size and some socks, swung through housewares for a cheap towel, and hit the register to grab a soda and candy bar right after the store is now closed intercom announcement.

Oh, there were glares. I mean, I had just dripped all over half the floors in the store, right at closing. I didn't say anything (aside from a request to double bag so that my purchases would stay dry). More glares but grudging compliance.

Back to the car. Halfway there I realized that I didn't even offer an apology for dripping all over their floors.

Oh, well. Cop has left. I was not changing that light without some kind of shelter. Score! Closed filling station. Put the light in. Checked. Good thing it wasn't faulty, they're definitely not letting me back into that Walmart!

At this point, who needed dignity? So I wrung out my hair and wound it up with a pen, folded the towel to the exact width of my hips, and calmly sat down to change into my new socks and ugly ass shoes.

I took a look around, decided if I couldn't see anyone in the rain they couldn't see me either.

Stripped my upper half to the skin and pulled the sweatshirt on, then looked up and made eye contact with some dude in the window of the apartment above the gas station.

In for a dime, in for a dollar. I blew him a kiss, calmly shut my door, and drove away.

I was laughing about the unintentional peep show and feeling warmer and more cheerful but it was still over 70 miles home, which is when I remembered a shortcut.

Finally, we're getting to the part where I could have died. (But seriously, how could you understand it if you don't know what led me there?)

There's the turn. Decide! Screw it, I wanted my shower. I turned. All quiet, nothing moving, darker than dark out there, kinda creepy...glad I have two headlights, but at least the deer shouldn't be running around.

Then, movement out of the corner of my eye in the light from the farmyard I was passing and I had zero idea what I was seeing. I just suddenly knew that I needed to gun it.

My pedal damned near hit the soggy floorboard. When I let up and looked in the rearview mirror I knew. A wave of water had been rushing through that field and washed over the road right behind me. I definitely could have died. Nobody knew I'd be there.

This was about 20 yrs ago and I didn't have a mobile phone. Nobody would have even missed me until I missed work the next day because they'd probably assume that I had stayed over due to the weather.

Made it home alive and having developed a healthy sense of caution. I also never take shortcuts on dark, rainy nights.

What do you know? The woman can learn. (And yes, the shower was gloriously warm, but not nearly as long as I'd planned because I was too tired to prolong it.)

Username: maddiep81

Posted this a few places before but here we go again I guess: It’s a long one.

I was a 10 year old girl getting changed for P.E. in the cloakroom because my old primary school refused to pay for changing rooms either locks because “all our staff are trustworthy” (yeah, right. Thanks Mrs A, you peace of shit excuse of a head teacher who only cared about herself and her reputation, but don’t worry, this isn’t about you.

This is about your “trustworthy employee”, Mr P.) Anyway I took my top off and had that feeling of “I’m not alone”, turn around to see my about 30 year old teacher staring at me, with that sort of sickening grin on his face, his eyes fixated on my bare chest.

I was the only one in the cloakroom as I was late for school because of an appointment or something, so when I saw him just staring at me, I was understandably freaked out.

I pulled my shirt over my body and froze, completely terrified. After a little while after he starts moving towards me, and tried to grab my hand. I ran into one of the bathroom stalls and locked the door.

I waited to hear him go, about 5 minutes but it felt like an hour, while shaking, trying and failing to fight off an attack(I have asthma) and crying silently.

When I was certain he was gone, I ran out to my bag and took my inhaler as I was about to pass out. I calmed down as quick as possible and went to the nurse saying I had just been sick, she rang my dad and I went straight home.

My dad knew something was wrong as he could tell I had been panicking and crying, and I finally told him all of it apart from what had happened earlier, as this sort of thing had been happening for most of the year (as well as verbal abuse during lessons, maths especially).

I couldn’t tell him what had happened that day as I was still terrified, but I told him that on a regular day when all the girls would get changed at the same time, he would do what he did earlier.

It was incredibly hard to tell him this, but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him that it had been just me on my own, as I knew that was far more dangerous than when we were all together.

We would watch out for each other, take turns in changing while the others stood around one of us to somewhat block his view, and he never tried to get close to use when we were together.

That’s why I was so scared when I was alone, as I knew no one else was there to help me.

I still can’t go into much detail without feeling all the emotions I did when it was happening, it’s like re-living it. My dad hugged and consoles me and took me out of the school that day.

I moved to the school my bully of a cousin went to and had a fairly rough time there, but I was just glad to be out of the other school.

I was willing to put up with her to get away from my teacher, his words and actions hurt more than all of her punches combined.

Nobody knows the whole story, and so many people told me I overreacted, but the look in his eyes, the bulge in his trousers, it was just wrong. It’s left me with so much mental damage that I struggle with every single day.

I cannot express how mentally draining it is to be constantly terrified of everything little noise, or being in public where I feel anyone could be there, to be constantly alert and never truly feel safe.

It’s exhausting. I have extreme anxiety and paranoia, depression, severe self hatred issues, suicidal thoughts and have self harmed because of this and multiple other incidents that this teacher put me and my friends through.

I was told I was “not good enough” and “a waste of air” every single day for months, and that sort of stuff sticks with an impressionable child with already low self esteem.

Not a day goes by where I don’t think about it and it’s just as terrifying as when it happened.

Even writing this is making me shake and cry over 3 years later. I also suffer from flashbacks of this and other times with that teacher, and I can’t express how petrifying it is.

I still get chills every time I think about it, I trust my gut feeling every time since then, it’s gotten me out of multiple situations, but this is the most chilling for me.

Therapy is helping but it’s an agonisingly slow process.

Username: Ohkaiey

One time I traveled with my dad, an archaeologist that does tours for Americans usually, in an Eastern African country.

Parts of the country know him very well and the locals act as our own bodyguards around town, usually just me and my dad and brother and mom.

(They don’t really care about the tourists since my dad has done so much humanitarian work there in remote towns).

We were out of our normal village we work with and build schools and refugee centers, since during the paid tours my dad takes the tourists to all the famous cities around the county.

(I hated being in a tour with annoying Americans who were ignorant) We were in a tourist city that is not safe at night.

We had dancers come that were friends of the village to do a traditional dance.

This was years ago when I was like 12. I was an anxious child, but my dad assured me this was a private party in a backyard, and whoever he invited he knew and I was safe.

Well some guys somehow get in and start asking all of the tourists to help their local soccer team named “The Obama’s” (this was during his first term in America).

They slowly asked everyone for “donations”, and they finally got to me.

They asked me for donations but said it was too noisy and asked me to step to the side. I was super hesitant and knew this was a horribly bad idea.

They were intimidating. My anxiety skyrocketed.

But at 12, I was a naive white child and totally couldn’t be independent and say no to others. I made eye contact with one of the women in my group.

A loud, sweet, midwestern American. They said it was still too loud, and I decided I didn’t want to talk to them anymore. We were in a backyard, and there was a large part of the building behind a wall that wasn’t lit.

As I slowly said I didn’t have money, one of the men (there were two, locals, men in their mid 30s) grasped my arm as hard as he could and started dragging me to the dark side of the building with all his strength.

I was in shock and didn’t know what to do, I didn’t have the rape whistle I was given on me, and I panicked and let them pull me.

The woman saw me and yelled “hey! Are you ok? Come back to the party sweetie”.

She said this at the exact same time I was almost in the whole darkness.

When she said that multiple people looked and those men booked it out of there. I fell to the ground and started shaking and crying.

My dad came to console my mess of crying, and I told him what happened. He knows this country and immediately jumped up, got his local friend and a bunch of the guys and ran after them.

They were out for a few hours as I sat in my hotel room.

They came back four hours later. Sweaty as hell.

My dad hugged me and said they found the guys in the corner of a bar a few miles away. And that the police came.

The next day I found out they got two years for trying to kidnap me for their sex slavery ring. White, young girls are priceless in the sex trade business.

I was shocked that my gut instinct of not trusting them was true (I didn’t act on it), but that my gut eye contact with woman and holding my gaze for a while saved my life.

I was seconds away from being in the dark area that nobody could see. Always act on your gut instincts.

Even if your shy, listen and act on it. Or you could be kidnapped for a sex slavery ring.

Username: [deleted]

I was walking down a "nature path" my city has downtown for office workers at lunch.

I'd just recently discovered it and was so excited to take daily walks. I was listening to music with one headphone (as always) and got a really weird feeling.

There were plenty of other women walking the path alone, all clearly on a break from work. I looked behind be and saw a man in orange.

No big deal.. until he stopped and tried to look busy so he didn't have to walk past me.

I suddenly realised there were fenced houses on one side of the path and a little-ish river on the other.

I took my headphones out and dialed 911 but didn't press "send" or call on some phones.

I held my finger over the button and took advantage of a split in the path for a tree to grow through, to turn around without looking suspicious, like I was just headed back to the office at this round about.

I was still hoping I was being a little extra at this point as I'm sure many do in this type of situation.

Until I started to circle and he was gone. I froze.

I looked around, no where he could have gone.

The path was fairly straight and unless he ran, he couldn't have turned and gone back far enough that I couldn't see him.

I didn't know what to do, I contemplated calling 911 but still felt like maybe I was being crazy and would be wasting their time (of note, I was 19 - would never hesitate now).

Then I hear "on your right". I look to the right and a man speeds by on his bike. I'm still in shock so regrettably don't flag him down.

About 5 feet ahead of me I see a bush move then the man in orange jumps out with a frightened look on his face.

He freezes, looks at me standing there then bolts up a small hill towards the fenced houses, and jumps the fence.

A little too late I switch to the camera function on my phone and take a picture of him from afar then start speed walking back to the office.

I text my coworker/friend saying I was in the path and was followed.

If I don't text her every 3 minutes, call 911 immediately.

I safely got back to the office, made an incident report and a police report.

The director at work (I was an entry level clerk at the time) has to sign all incident reports and came to me and said he was very proud of how I handled myself (headphone out, 911 prepped, texting coworker) and he was going to share the tips with his daughters.

I told him I was disappointed in myself for hesitating so much, as I've taken self defence for women. But looking back it wasn't bad for my age at all.

A week ish later an office worker was raped on that path.

I don't think she was killed, but I can't remember. I never found out if it was the same guy.

Username: Alyssa_xD

For months I had been sick. I was 19-20. Completely wiped out tired, gastric problems, anxiety, etc.

I went to doctor after doctor, specialists and GPs, and all of them would run tests to have everything come back normal.

But I knew something was wrong. I had never experienced feeling so bad for so long.

My family thought I was going crazy, that I was making up my issues to get out of going to things and shit like that because it had gone on for all these months with no doctor finding anything.

I actually had a family member tell me it was depression manifesting itself into physical symptoms.

I was depressed but only because I knew something was wrong and no one could figure out what it was.

Anyway, fast forward four months from when it started happening.

It had snowed a bunch and I was outside shoveling our driveway with my boyfriend. I felt like I was going to die.

Literally, die. I told him I had to go inside and lay down immediately.

I laid down and a friend of ours came over to go to dinner with us as planned. We go to the restaurant and I feel like a total zombie. I can barely walk, I’m not hungry at all. I feel like I have the worst flu of my life at this point.

We get home and the feeling intensifies. I can’t fall asleep. I keep going into the bathroom feeling like I’m going to puke.

It’s one of these puke times that I feel the biggest rush of anxiety I’ve ever felt. It gripped my chest.

I had been going into the bathroom with the main light off, just using the little toilet room light instead.

But this anxiety wave hit me so hard it made me turn on a light to splash some water on my face.

I happened to look up into the mirror, it’s the middle of the night at this point, and I look...yellow. Bright fucking yellow.

I woke up my boyfriend and said I needed to go to the hospital.

He freaked out because he could clearly see that I am the color of gold at this point. Even the whites of my eyes were yellow.

We got to the hospital where they took one look at me and put me in a room right away.

Turned out one of the very first things they had tested me for was mono and mono has a very large false negative rate.

So I had been walking around, going to school, going to work with mono for months without knowing it.

It turned out that the mono caused lots of problems: I had hemolytic anemia which was chewing up my liver which was causing the jaundice (the yellowing of everything).

The mono also triggered cold agglutins in my blood, which meant my body was shredding my red blood cells to bits thinking they were harming me.

I was in the hospital for a week. Had to have a blood transfusion.

Had to have a PICC line put in because my IV came out half way through my hospital stay and they couldn’t find another place to put it back in.

I was completely gold until a day or two before I went home, I looked like a lizard person. All in all, it took years for me to get back to normal after that.

I honestly don’t know what would have happened though had I not had that grip of pure anxiety and turned that light on.

Username: cakesie1108

I was 15, home alone on a farm out in the country, closest neighbor is a bit over half a mile away.

It’s the summer so I’m wearing a top, not with a big cleavage or anything and a thin skirt, thin fabric but not see though and it’s a long skirt, to the ground long.

(This is relevant later) Someone knock on the door, our guest entrance that’s closest when you enter into the courtyard.

I go open to see who it is and what they want.

There is a man that looks like framing Santa, he wanted to sell air-photos of the farm.

He looked nice, I mean he did look like Santa, just a friendly pleasant old man, he was friendly and polite and nice and the dumb ass that is me told him I was home alone when he asked for my parents and he smiled warmly and I just got so god damn terrified I almost pissed my self.

I felt completely naked when he looked at me, naked, exposed and so so scared, there were literally nothing off with him, at least that I can put my finger on and explain, but I just knew!

I knew he meant me harm, I knew I was in grave danger.

I honestly think he might have raped and murdered me if it wasn’t for the fact that my family had a dog.

We had an unusually large German Shepard, she was not allowed in the nicer dining room that was next to the guest entrance and if she entered her claws clicking in the floor always gave her away.

This time though, the entire exchange with this man lasted for only 30 seconds or so, but I swear she felt my terror and she completely silent and soundless came sneaking in and rushed past me.

I instinctively grabbed her collar, she wasn’t growling she wasn’t making a sound she didn’t have any (obvious) threatening body language and she didn’t pause for a second to scare him off.

She was completely focused and she went straight for his throat.

She was coming to kill the threat not to warn him.

Grabbing her in the air was completely out of instinct/reflex I didn’t even notice her coming before she was jumping for him next to me.

I kept her next to me for the rest of the interaction.

She was standing in that worryingly still state and intensely staring at him the entire time, you know the one when they are completely still and focused but ready to explode in a fraction of a second.

Had I let go of the collar she would have been on him in a second.

Or if he had moved to quickly or in the wrong way I think.

When my parents came home and I told them about it started crying hysterically from the fear.

They were very concern and confused about me being that afraid over a polite man that looked like Santa and didn’t do or say anything even slightly off.

But I’m convinced that I would not have survived that encounter had I not had a very large and very protective dog there with me.

God just recalling it makes my eyes tear and my heart race from the fear.

That man was evil.

I have no other way to explain it, he was evil and he enjoyed hurting people, I could just feel it in my bones, my skin crawled when he looked at me.

Username: GaiasDotter

Here's a sad one, back in the early 2000's before I got sober I used to drink at bar called boardners on hollywood blvd in Los Angeles.

The bouncer was a semi pro body builder named Daniel Arziadian, he was a very decent and kind guy who was just covered in muscle. He used all kinds of shit to get that way.

So I was a fucking nut back then, carried a gun, did coke and drank hard and steady all night.

Danny used to walk me past security so I didn't get padded down on the agreement that if he needed that kind of help I wouldn't hesitate.

Its not that I liked violence but after previous life experience I saw it as a necessary evil. I didn't go looking but if it found me at 2:15 am it was going to awful for them.

I was doing all kinds of stupid shit that put me in the line of fire and several people in the past had attempted to rob me.

Saturday night it was a goth club called Bar Sinister,( still going I think) and Friday was a dance, hip hop, whatever night.

So, on a friday night I was at the front hanging with Danny we were talking and having a laugh and he was checking Id's before he sent them down the hall to get padded down.

This little dude shows up, covered in sweat and pretty much rude as fuck. Five feet tall with six feet six of attitude. Danny was cool with him but his size just freaked the little guy out.

After Danny carded him the little guy said " I'm not afraid of you, you know that?" Danny told him there was no need to be, just be cool. Cat does a lot of puffing up and breathing through his nose.

He goes down the hall, realizes he is going to get searched and turns around and jogs out.

Back ten minutes later Danny waves him through, her gets padded down and life goes on.

There is a girl there I am into and we hung out occasionally, super sexy, danced on a riser in the bar, and really nice.

We did a line or two and I was just hesitant to ask her out, also I had a bad habit of talking to her tits and i suspect she thought i was an asshole for it.

Actually i was an ashole for it. Anyway a few hours into the night I bumped into the little guy and apologized and he got hot for a second and i bought him a round.

He calms down and tells me he isn't from here. Guy makes me really nervous, he offers me a line and suddenly i know why he is covered in sweat.

The line was fucking huge and he had at least a half an ounce in the bag. Nobody sane walks around with that much IN ONE BAG.

It pretty much guarantees ten years in prison if you are lucky. Anyway he has the hots now for the girl I mentioned, starts tell me he is going to get her, etc.

I don't say much. He is clearly fucking nuts. Can't stop talking or sweating and is telling me how connected he is. The more he talks the more I realize that this is going to go way bad. "

I can kick anyone's ass in this bar. Wanna see?" No, Im good. "You back me up?" I don't want trouble. He says its all cool. The whole scene has my neck hair standing up.

I don't want to be there anymore, time to get on my bike and go home. Maybe watch porn, do a few lines, and beat off.

I head out and as I pass the little guy is thrown twenties at the hot girl dancing on the riser, she isn't taking the money so he is picking it back up and throwing it again. ( This isn't a titty bar).

On my way out I say to Daniel that I'm leaving, give him a hug and watch out for that guy he is loaded and nuts. He tells me he has already had to warn him twice.

I got a really sad feeling and told him to watch \`out. He gives me a nod and I leave.

Next time I go to Boardners there is a huge stack of prayer candles flowers and cut out pictures from body building magazines next to the entrance.

When I asked Lemont what happened he said someone ambushed Daniel and shot him ten times, emptied the magazine on him at 3:30 am while he was walking to his car after work.

To this day there is little doubt in my mind how that happened even though no one else saw it go down.

There was a little blip in the LA times about it. Steroid use had weakened his immune system and he died three days later. He was a semi pro body builder and my friend.

He left behind a wife and a small child.

Username: Chris_Thrush

Back in undergrad I lived in a house with 4 other girls.

There was a week where every evening and also at random hours of the day I would see this van parked across the street for several hours at a time.

My room had a large front facing window on the first floor, so i was particularly creeped out.

Being in a college town and having lived in that house for about a year at that time, I was fairly aware of who my neighbors were.

That van did NOT belong.

I noticed there was an older couple sitting in the van and they would never get out.

It took a few days for my roommates to get creeped out about that van (I’m a professional worrier, so they figured it was someone’s new car or maybe a visitor).

I had heard stories from teachers about some college women abducted from their own home a few decades prior, and I was terrified that was what was going to happen.

So anyway, one night we got home pretty late and the van was at our house again.

We all just got fed up with it (and a few of my roommates were a bit drunk) and called our neighbors—a house full of guys our age—and had them come over/scope it out.

They agreed it was creepy.

They stood outside with us as we stared down the couple in the van... but couple in the van didn’t move.

Once the guys left, the couple got out of the van and walked up to our house.

We were terrified.

Locked all doors, etc, and called police.

They knocked on the door.

Then they BANGED on our door like they wanted to break it down.

They yelled “WE KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE”! (Well yeah, you just watched us walk inside, so....).

With police on the phone, we opened the door slightly (we had one of those chain locks so it wasn’t completely open) and asked them what they wanted.

Apparently, they thought we were harboring their 21 year-old daughter and her baby.

They were definitely on some drugs, maybe drunk, because they didn’t make a whole lot of sense as they yelled ramblings at us.

They didn’t believe us when we said we had no idea what they were talking about and that we were just college girls going to school, etc.

They demanded to take a look inside and all that. We ended up telling them to leave and shutting the door on them. We made sure to tell them we had men living in our home, too, (not true) and that we are good friends with our surrounding neighbors.

The police didn’t initially make a fuss about it for some reason, but after we all made several calls and requests for security, the police started to make rounds up and down our street.

Saw the van a few more times before it finally stopped coming around.

Not sure if my intuition “saved” me in this instance, but the memory never fails to give me chills. I still wonder if that was a bogus story to get inside the house or if they were really searching for their runaway daughter.

I wonder if they’d have eventually broken into our house or hurt one of us if i hadn’t been so creeped out and called police.

Username: peeperspeeped

More of a chest feeling than gut feeling, but I had a thing called a Spontaneous Pneumothorax, which is a bit of an odd name given my experience. I was in marching band of my sophomore year in high school.

About a month in I started having a noticeable shortness of breath and difficulty breathing after long periods of exercise.

I have had pretty minor asthma my whole life, but it felt a bit worse than usual.

So after a while (about a month) of dismissing it thinking it's just a bit worse asthma than usual, I decided to tell my parents and we went to get me looked at.

This is where the shit gets a bit... Weird to me.

We went to our normal go-to doctor (not sure what they're called) and got told it was probably just asthma and to start using my inhaler.

So I did for a while, but the inhaler never helped. So we went back, and got more useless information, a slightly different inhaler and a pat on the back. But I kept pressing it wasn't asthma and my mom believed me and we went to a Pulmonologist.

They did some scans, checked my breathing levels, some other stuff and said nothing seems to be out of order.

But I knew that wasn't the case, and we decided to see if maybe my heart had something to do with it.

We went to a heart specialist and got nothing helpful there either.

But anyways, we then thought it may be my chest (I have Pectus Excavatum, but it never had any negative effects on my physical activity).

So we went to get that checked on and, as it turned out, I had a partially collapsed lung and (this was the surgeons speculation) the Pectus was actually helping keep it from being fully collapsed.

So after three to four months of being told "just asthma" and "nothing wrong here" from even fuckin lung SPECIALISTS, it just took a single damn x ray to find out I have a partially collapsed lung.

I was playing the trombone in marching band, going to fall fairs and riding all the crazy rides, and running around doing dumb shit every high schooler does with a partially collapsed lung for four damn months.

Not very spontaneous, is it?

People have asked me "why did you do all that with a partially collapsed lung?"

And to that I always say, because I could. I didn't know I was apparently a decent hit to the chest away from my lung popping, just breathing was a bit harder and I wanted it to stop being that way.

God bless my parents for listening to my dumb ass over hundreds of dollars in medical opinions or that pop might have happened at some point.

And also, thank god my body was durable enough to endure my stupidity.

But after a month in the hospital and another month of accrued absences from school, sophomore year proceeded to kick my ass, but overall (not joking) the hospital trip was a pretty fond memory.

A special blend of nihilism, blind over-confidence in my durability and endless emotional support from friends and family mad it one of the highlights of my life.

Username: Jazzyshotgun420

Have you heard of how the pupils can become bigger when we see something we like?

It’s to get as much light into our eyes as possible to be able to see it better.

The same thing happens when we see something we feel we must destroy/kill.

It’s to get as much light into our eyes as possible to be able to see the perceived threat better, so we can defend ourself or see better how we can destroy/kill it.

But most of us have breaks in our heads - even if we hate someone, we don’t want to kill them.

Or even if we feel we would want to kill them, we don’t want to kill overall because we know it’s wrong, so often normal peoples eyes don’t get as much pupil dilation in the threat to overcome/extreme hate/wanting to kill-situations.

That’s why psychopaths have that thing when their eyes turn black suddenly.

Their brain has just decided that you’re a big enough threat (often for their ego) to be put back in your place/put down.

They don’t have that emotional breaks in their heads as normal people do, so when they feel they hate you, or have to hurt you/kill you, their pupil dilation is *huge*.

A lot of them don’t act on it, but not because they don’t want to.

Because they know it would lead to trouble for them. But they want to. Badly.

And we see how their eyes turns black. And yes, it’s absolutely terrifying!

My ex got those black eyes from time to time, he was abusive as well.

(I think a part of why it’s so scary is when they feel those intense feelings of wanting to hurt/kill you, they forget their “mask” they usually have so it’s not just the black eyes but the whole face that starts to look.. weird.

Animalistic maybe?

Not like the person we care for and thought we knew. there is no trace of that person we fell in love with anymore in their face, because that person was just a mask to lure us in.

So we get a glimpse under the mask, just when they want to hurt us the most.)

A lot of women who has survived domestic abuse describes how abusers eyes have turned black, often before a particularly bad beating/raping/murder attempt starts.

So if you see it during an argument with someone, leave as fast as possible.

Call someone immediately that you know will pick up.

Or even 911! Tell them right away where you are, and with who, and that you’re afraid for you life. Make that person realise that acting on their feelings will lead to trouble for them.

And then, if possible, go no contact with them, they will want to get revenge for whatever they wanted to hurt you in the first place for, and secondly becuase you got away from them when they wanted/had decided to hurt you.

Username: Leather_City_155

Due to an illness I have I get intestinal inflammation once in a while.

I had lost a bit of blood but thought it was nothing serious so I decided not to go see a doctor on the weekend as to see my normal doctor.

My parents are overprotective, if something is dangerous they'll immediately want me to go see a doctor.

There is a risk of infection when you're going to hospitals(my doctor is at a hospital).

I knew that which is why I always limit it to emergencys or checkups discussing the rest per email.

Well anyway I went to the toilet and expected there to be a moderate amount of intestinal bleed. It didn't stop and just went on flowing.

Part of my memory is blank, due to the shock but this is most of what I remember.

I remember watching a video and I left my phone on the sink so I didn't have to hold it in my hands. After losing too much blood I was fading into unconsciousness.

A of sound came out of my phone which woke me up a bit. I kicked a roll of toilet paper out of its holder and pulled it toward me with my feet.

I say kicked but there was barely enough force behind it. I remember not even being able to feel my hands and feet.

I used the roll to extend my reach and made the phone drop allowing me to grab it and call my father.
I didn't directly call the ambulance because:

1 I had literally 6% worth of charge, my phone discharges really fast. I still haven't replaced it.

2 I didn't think I was able to hold onto myself long enough to explain my location the problem I have etc.

I called my father and all I said was "I need help"

So he drives on his bicycle as fast as can and calls the ambulance.

My HB dropped to from 13.6 to 6.1 and in the hospital all the way to 5.3 .

2 days passed in the emergency room my doctor comes to see me, I had notified him per SMS, but it was a funny exchange.

Doc"How's it going"
Me"I tell him my symptoms"
Doc"Chuckles, terrible, nothing new"
Me"tells story of the ambulance"
Doc" Sounds just like you"

So we discussed what potentially caused the bleeding and discussed long-term treatments.

The situation was damaging but not life-threatening which made me feel a bit at ease.

Without going into detail too much I can safely say I trusted my gut not to see the doctors on the weekend because there was a cold spreading in the hospital.

Thanks to my gut I didn't go and catch that cold, who knows what could have happened.

Now being serious there were no pre-emptive measures and going earlier in that case would most likely not have benefitted me so in the end it actually was a good thing.

If I had actually got infected my survival chances would have been much lower and the situation would probably have been worse.

Kind of a weird "trusting my gut" story. I don't know if it really fits.

Username: ErkinPlays

I was in this 11ish year relationship since I was 18 with this guy who was absolutely abusive.

Just an absolutely useless human being who was as useless as could be (e.g. I was getting my PhD at prestigious university and he was unemployed for the first 2.5 years in one of the most expensive parts of the country so I was the sole breadwinner because he just wanted to chill).

You put up with trash and convince yourself that’s all you deserve when you’ve been broken enough times as a person.

When I finished my program I moved back home and was around folks who could see how I was just barely existing in a life where my every single move and thought was controlled and motivated me to finally stand up for myself and I set very hard boundaries.

Loved ones had tried to convince me multiple times throughout the years to break up with him because they thought “something” was off about him but I was in to “win it” with him after so many years together. (Only ONE break up of two weeks during that entire 11 year relationship!)

It was late 2019 and it it was the first time in almost 10 years where things started feeling better, several months of me sticking to hard boundaries. Like okay this was worth it and we’re gonna make it.

We get invited to his family’s extended woodsy cabin excursion late 2019. I LOVE hiking and being outside so I was super excited to spend several days in the wilderness just finally feeling okay for the first time in what felt like most of my life.

We spent almost a full week out there hiking, wandering, cooking, etc. with him and his family and just having the “best and chillest time” we’d had since we officially started dating.

Did every single thing I loved in the woods and was just elated that I felt like I was finally going to start breathing.

We were in charge of the last night’s dinner before we all headed out the next morning to wherever we were all going. I LOVE cooking for people and was so elated we got to do the last meals. I loved every second of it.

But something just felt OFF. Only way I can describe it was this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was just very wrong.

So much so that I was feeling physically nauseous from the anxiety.

So after we all have dinner at the main big cabin and we’re all heading back to our smaller cabins I stop him and tell him how much I appreciate his effort the previous several months and that this trip was something I had so much love for.

That I was looking forward to keeping up this momentum.

But I tell him, despite everything something inside me just feels like something isn’t right.

So I ask him to please just break up with me (no questions asked) if ANYTHING might ever come out that would destroy us.

Told him I was just so tired of everything and I just didn’t want to keep getting hurt.

He says no, I love you, you’re my soulmate and nothing will ever destroy this.

But I still felt that knot in the pit of my stomach.

So I tell him okay, I believe you but I need some air. I just feel a little crazy since everything has improved so much and it feels like I’m trying to find reasons to be upset.

I leave alone and decide to go by the lake under the full moonlight and just start hysterically sobbing, literally asking the universe for any sign that I’m not crazy and whether I’m with the right person or not.

I exhaust myself crying, clean up, and head back to the cabin to get some rest and be ready for our trek back the next morning.

Feeling so silly I had been so emotional.

EXACTLY one week later I had the luck of finding his CP stash after I was trying to do something kind. Absolutely broke me. We were about to “get engaged and start trying for kids” since I finally had agreed to both about a month before.

Last week it was the 4 year anniversary since everything happened. He’s currently in prison.

But ever since, I haven’t stopped listening to my gut not once and it’s paid off. Listen to yours too. It always knows something.

Username: xDeathxBunnyx

I had decided to get pads at 10:30 pm since I got my period suddenly and I wasn't about to spend the whole night in a makeshift pad made out of toilet paper.

Too detailed?

Sorry. It's relatively safe in my country around this time all though it does depend on where it is that you're going.

The grocery store is only a five-minute walk from my house and there are usually some people still walking around at this time.

I had felt safe because whilst heading to the grocery store I saw 1 or two people around and there was even someone on their balcony who had a clear view of the whole street, but even so, I was still alert.

I always am.

I ended being assaulted once due to ignoring my gut feeling.

As I was nearing the main street that I needed to cross in order to get to the grocery stores, I was passing a high school that's on the left side of the sidewalk.

And to right of the sidewalk, there was a bunch of cars parked.

All of a sudden I had heard someone getting out of a car in a rush, which made no sense since it's 10:30, and I remember thinking why the hell would someone be rushing at 10:30 pm?

So I subtly turned around and saw this guy fast-walking behind me, however, he wasn't directly behind me he was on the other end of the sidewalk.

I kept walking and pretended like everything is okay.

I turned around for the 2nd time and this guy was now walking directly behind me.

Here's when I realized that I should definitely be scared because if you are in a rush, the logical thing to do is go around the person on the sidewalk rather than directly behind them.

I started walking a bit faster and I was nearing the main street so if I were to scream I knew someone would hear me and right before I got there, there was a huge puddle that I had to walk around.

Due to being so scared I was like fuck it I'm stepping in this puddle because walking around it will take longer, but my dumbass which I am also very grateful for, decided that my shoes weren't worth ruining and my safety was worth the risk so I turned around to walk around the puddle and I almost had a damn heart attack right then and there.

This guy was straight up in my face with his hand outstretched towards me and a white cloth in it.

We'd both just been staring at each other for a few seconds before he turned abruptly and literary ran to his car.

I wasn't about to wait around and find out if he was with other people so I literary ran to the damn store.

All I keep thinking is that if I had not trusted my gut feeling that something is wrong and also had I not been a dumbass who decided to not ruin her new shoes, who knows what he would have done.

Username: Helderinggg

One cloudy day in 5th grade, it was a field day. I wanted to ditch out but it was the last day of school and I needed to collect the things I had there so I went.

I have this "field day curse" which should be an entirely different post I should make.

Unfortunately, I couldn't sit-out on field day, despite wearing boots on purpose to exempt myself out of physical activities.

A partner I didn't really get to choose because everyone else in my grade bullied me or had friends.

I did have unfortunate things like crying out of having such a horrible time (and my snowcone fell) and hit my head on a metal bridge-thing while doing so but this situation is what saved me.

There was this tree in our schoolyard that was super tall, I once remember the school banned us from attempting to climb it since a hit got badly injured falling.

This field day they needed more ideas for games so they made a game where you had to climb using a rope up to the tree about 15-ish feet up.

Grab the flag, you win, you had to stick the flag pack at the same spot.

It was only a 1v1 game so only one partner would go up, then the next. IDK what they did if we had a tie, because I forgot.

This was a popular game and the lines were pretty busy but in order to get our snow cones, you had to complete a certain amount of games.

I think it was around 30 games we completed, I got my snowcone that I later dropped, and we needed five more games to get another one.

34 games, one more, and there were only about two left. By this time, the line for the tree game had vanished and my partner says "Hey we should do that one!"

I'm a wussy and I didn't trust this school's safety plans AT ALL. I knew I CAN'T win that game and I was gonna get a rope burn.

I said we should do another game (I think it was a pool noodle game) but I can't remember.

I said would take less time (BS there was a little more of a line) but my partner had a deal with enough of my shit so she complied.

A couple of minutes later...

***ZZZZZZ-PANG***

Screams of horror.

Immediately we look to see the tree shed and collapse (some sparks) and as the branches fall, some staff and a group of kids ducking, few were running into the school.

A lot of people ran for the school door, the rain started to fall, our clothes were getting wet, some staff helped at the scene but I was one of the people who wanted to get through the door.

As there was an entire school-full of people trying to get through a metal double-door I kind of waited for everyone else to go in.

I tried to look back but saw barely anything because of playground equipment.

I went inside, everyone was talking and chatting up, teacher blew the whistle to shut us all up, and explained to us that we shouldn't be freaked out, everyone is fine, and do not seek shelter under trees.

Some kids were crying, some were calling their parents on there iPhone 4s. I was just shocked and hoped the kid at that tree was one of my bullies.

IDK what happened later since it was the last day of school but days I drive by the school and remember the tree that use to be at the playground.

Username: MysticAmberMeadow

Living in Hawaii, married to a Marine who was deployed to Japan.

We had a studio apartment that was separated by those sliding doors with paper insets.

The front door was a sliding glass door, the back door was the same.

My next-door neighbor and her husband were getting ready for a deployment as well and had decided to stay in a cabin at the beach for the weekend.

A fellow Marine either decided to stay at their apartment or got permission, not sure which.

He was drunk all the time and would leer at every female who walked by.

That evening, I had just put the baby to bed and was sitting on the end of my bed reading the ads for rental properties.

I kept hearing all kinds of noise on the back lanai, so I turned on the light to look but did not see anything.

I thought it might be my other neighbor moving their grill around or something.

I flipped off the light, and sat back down. After a little while, I decided to brush my teeth so I went into the bathroom.

I heard a lot more noise on the back lanai and came out to find my back screen door open.

My baby was sleeping in his bed just fine, but there were dirty handprints on my screen door that were not there before.

It occurred to me that the drunk idiot next door had climbed over the dividers for each lanai and had opened the door.

I wasn't sure if he was still in there, so I grabbed the baby and went towards the front sliding door (which had opaque glass in it) and could see the shadow outline of a head with a very standard Marine haircut trying to view into my apartment.

He noticed me and ran. And I listened to how far the footsteps went, which was next door.

Heard that door open and close and that was it.

Anyone else caught in the act would go down the steps and be gone.

So I slinked down to the other end of the walkway and knocked on the door there.

They let me in, we called the police, and I stayed there while every other neighbor's Marine husband and HPD searched around my apartment.

One apparently with kbar between his teeth shimmied over my lanai divider onto the neighbor's, opened that door and found him in the closet hiding.

He grabbed him and dragged him to the front door where the posse was waiting.

They took him to jail and the cops told me he had a whole scene set up in that apartment, hoping to have a little "fun" and he would be gone out of the country within hours on deployment.

His unit apparently talked the cops into releasing him, and he went on deployment.

Flash forward a year ago, and his DNA was found in two separate abduction, rape, torture, and murder cases in FL and HI.

All I did was brush my teeth.

Username: EmmyAngelico

About 2 years ago, I was running to the grocery store to buy water for my house. We had one of those office-water-cooler-type things that took those giant bottles you have to pick up in the front of the store.

I walk in, grab a cart, put my old jug in, grab a new one, and walk up to the cashier. Ring up, pay, and I bail. I was in the store for MAX 5 minutes.

Now, being a 19 yr old, conventionally attractive female, I know to never go places alone after dark. Be aware of my surroundings always.

I always park pretty close to the front on the side. It was probably around 6pm, so just before sunset. The parking lights aren't even on.

This older Asian lady walks up to me, not carrying anything but a beat up purse.

Typical looking elderly woman, nothing out of character for one. But I had a weird feeling about her.

She started asking me these weird questions like, "How does that water system work? Where's it bottled at? Is it better than bottled water?" for about 10 minutes.

Every time I tried backing away from her, she just walked closer and closer. Wouldn't really let me get in my car.

She takes note of my car tag, studying almost. I look around for other people for a witness or something.

I see this man standing just out in the middle of a parking aisle, definitely watching this go down.

Finally I just tell her, "Hey lady, I gotta go" Hop in my car, lock the doors quickly. I look around and she seemingly disappears into thin air.

I decide to just sit in my locked and off car for 10 minutes, hoping they leave, figuring out what to do as my roommate isn't home for the weekend so I couldn't go there in case they do follow me.

I call my dad and tell him I'll be over at his house in a couple minutes and I'll call him back to meet me outside when I'm pulling up.

He thinks I'm being overly sensitive. Its broad daylight that doesn't happen in our city.

I decide to leave the parking lot and just drive.

This charcoal colored chevy cruze is right on my ass. I don't know why I didn't just go straight to my dad's house. Something in my kept telling me to just drive aimlessly around town.

So that's exactly what I do.

Down the highway, residential streets, cut throughs, everything, for 30 minutes. No one ever would take that route to get wherever they're going.

I eventually pull into my dad's neighborhood, shoot him a text to meet me outside.

The direction I went, you could see the north side of the house, but there were cars parked in the driveway blocking the view of the front door/porch.

I park in front of the house in the street.

The Cruze slowing down as well. Until they see my dad standing in the front yard.

They promptly SPEED away. Like full SKRRT, tire squeals and all.

I still remember hearing that. I ran out of my car and hugged my dad, him finally believing me.

I couldn't go to that grocery store for almost 3 months at all, then always made someone go with me for about a year more.

God bless getting taught that it's okay to trust your gut when others are telling you not to.

Username: carbusinesslady234

well... I kinda taught myself to drift IRL at ~160 mph in a storm. Was 19 years old, driving my pride and joy at the time, my e46 330xi, through the mountains at ~3 in the morning, no other traffic so I'm being a bit reckless... then, my back right tire started hydroplaning right before a turn, and an instinct from years of playing Need for Speed just kinda... kicked in

word to the wise: it did *not* feel/work "just like in the game"

but I kinda knew that would be the case. Had watched a few videos about the real thing on youtube over the years--mostly Top Gear, nothing *purely* educational... the only time prior I'd ever actually tried to drift *on purpose* was a week after I'd gotten my license, and that saw me straight into the ditch.

My hands didn't seem to care about that, though, as they slid through the motions of *what I very generously imagine to be* a textbook Scandinavian flick.

Suddenly, my rear wheels are sliding freely, and my right hand drops to the traction control toggle.

I start to floor it, feathering the clutch, wheels screaming as the rubber starts to soften, rain and road spray flashing to steam behind me, both hands on the steering wheel now as I whirl it the other way...

The world spun.

It was a tight turn, and frankly, even adverse conditions aside, I definitely shouldn't have been going so fast.

No excuse to blame there but the carelessness of youth and a taste for adrenaline.

As I cranked the steering wheel back the other way and started letting off the throttle to regain some traction, I wasn't looking so much out the windshield anymore as I was the window.

That's when everything sorta slowed down, and through the pelting rain I saw it: the lane lines, the shoulder, the guardrail, the cliff edge... the lane line, the shoulder, the gaurdrail, the cliff ege... the shoulder, the guardrail, the cliff edge, *the valley below, oh GOD--*

Just as I began to truly panic, the car suddenly rocked to the side, violently jerking me back to my senses. *Got traction; need torque.*

Pop the clutch, down to 3rd, punch it, rev match, slot her in aaand... looking out the windshield again, and *quick correction for the oversteering,* we're back to center, and still on the road :) lost a fair bit of speed, did not pull a great line, but I'm in one piece.

ahem... and yeah, 2 lanes over from where I started (without even signaling of course, typical BMW driver 🙄), damn near friction welded the bumper to the railing, *"fuck, I thought I was going to die, but also,"* I thought in the moment immediately after, *"HOLY SHIT, THAT WORKED?!"*

Username: FunFakeFacts

When I was 14, I woke up in the middle of the night to a man holding my phone. For a little background, I lived with my mom and stepdad at the time in an old house that had an odd setup.

On one side was the kitchen and my mom’s room in the back then on the opposite side were two bedrooms seperated by a wall and door but you had to go through the first room to get to the second one.

The back bedroom of the two conjoined rooms was mine and the first bedroom was my brother’s.

Also, I had broken my phone right before and had to get an iphone 3 in the meantime while i saved up christmas money because my parents didn’t believe in “handing us stuff” and as a 14 y/o I didn’t have a few hundreddollars to spend on repairs.)

So om to the story- my brother was staying the night at his dad’s house so it was just me, my mom and my stepdad at the house.

We went through our usual night routines and everything was normal. I fell asleep and randomly woke up out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

I tend to wake up really groggy and confused so it takes me awhile to start acting like an actual human and to realize what planet i’m on.

I’m sure some of you can relate. I saw something right infront of my face next to my bed and realized it was a man holding my phone.

At first, I thought it was my stepdad going through my phone trying to catch me doing something he could punish me for-he was the type that would purposely look for ANYTHING to rationalize taking all of his pent up anger out on a child.

(Total insecure loser, obviously, but that’s not the point. ) Something told me not to say anything to him and just to be still and watch for a bit.

I watched the unidentified man holding my phone walk towards my TV and then noticed that the door to my brother’s room was open ,and saw another male figure walking around in his room.

It quickly came very evident to me that the man inches away from me was not my stepdad and there was more than one random man in the house that only I knew about.

Needless to say I was absolutely frozen in fear and just stayed as still as I possibly could for what felt like an eternity.

I squinted my eyes to the point of them almost being closed so if the man in my room turned back towards me he wouldn’t know I was awake.
Good thing I did, because he walked back where he was before, standing right beside my bed just watching me for awhile.

Everything in me wanted to scream for help but I didn’t know if my mom and stepdad would even hear me and knew that there were at least two men between me and them if they did hear me and they would definitely know I was awake then.

Who knows what they would have done. So I just layed there- completely frozen in fear and praying for God to protect me and my family. I don’t know when the men finally left.

They walked out of my room but I didn’t know if they were in a different room or if they were coming back in my room, and the man that was in my room had left my phone on my dresser by the TV.

(I’m guessing he was trying to use the flashlight but my crappy iphone 3 didn’t have one so I guess he realized that and just left it there.

Eventually the sun began to come up and my mom came to wake me up for school.

Still trying to find any explanation that didn’t involve a strange man watching me sleep for who knows how long, I asked my mom if my stepdad had come to my room in the middle of the night and she had to idea what I was talking about.

Later that day after school we realized that both mine and my brother’s xbox’s had been stolen along with a few other small electronics.

They left my shitty original iphone 3,though. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t listened to my gut instinct to be still and quiet when I first saw that man in my room.

For the next few weeks after, I had the same recurring nightmare of me, my mom and my stepdad tied up to my brother’s bed with three men that tortured and killed my mom and stepdad and made me watch then raped and killed me.

It was so vivid, I can still see it so clearly to this day. Maybe that was my fate if I had made my alertness known that night.

Who knows. But I do know that God was looking out for me and gave me the discernment to keep my mouth shut.

Username: Sensitive_Source_988

Not sure if this counts as a gut feeling or just a lucky escape.

This was the summer after I graduated high school and I was about to enter college.

I was on Tinder and I matched with a guy who I went to high school with; I went to a pretty big high school so I actually never really knew the guy.

I knew vaguely of him, knew he was in student council and was mildly popular but I never had any classes with him.

We talked a bit and he seemed like a perfectly fine guy.

He seemed sweet and genuine. He asked me out on a date and I said yes; we went out to see a movie and get smoothies afterwards.

When I went on the date it was fine, we watched the movie and then in the parking lot he kissed me in his car.

We started to make out.

At that point, I felt bad, because I thought he was a really nice guy but I just didn't feel any attractiveness towards him and me being 18 and awkward, didn't know how to tell him I wasn't feeling it.

I have a group of close friends and we had long established that if we were ever uncomfortable during a date, we could text a 'code word' in our group chat and immediately one of us would call with an emergency or come pick us up.

So some point while he was rummaging through his car, I texted my friends the code word and a few minutes later, my friend called me telling me we had to hang out; her boyfriend broke up with her and she was coming to pick me up.

I said I was really sorry and that I had to go.

He seemed understanding, but he was pretty insistent that he drive me to her place; I declined a few times before he relented, and 10 minutes later my friend came and got me.

Nothing really came out of it since he actually had to go to college out of state two weeks after our date.

When I went to college myself a month later, I actually made friends with a girl who was from my high school who I didn't really know.

She knew the guy I had went on a date with much better than me.

I was telling her the story of my date with the guy, and her eyes widened and she asked me if I was okay.

I was confused and told her I was fine.

Turns out, he had drugged and raped several girls from our high school.

I honestly felt chills when I heard her tell me.

What would've happened if I had continued on with that date? Especially since the plan was to get drinks afterwards?

Also, while initially I thought the guy was pretty sweet, during Thanksgiving break (we had not been in contact for a couple months now) he texted me and asked me if I was "down to fuck" out of the blue.

So he really was just a sleazy dude.

Username: __sunni_bunz__

Hopefully my sister doesn’t mind me sharing this one on her behalf: TLDR below.

Family trip through Italy.

We’re in Tuscany and just spent the day in Florence, but our lodging is a small villa in the countryside 20 minutes from Florence.

We are dropped from Florence back to the villa by an arranged driver, so our car has been parked in the lot all day (1 of 3 cars...not a busy place).

It’s off season, so we were 1 of 2-3 parties staying at the villa, there’s hardly any activity.

My little sister is sleeping in the kitchen area on a pull-out couch after making a bigger stink than normal - insisting that she does not want to sleep out there alone, as she was feeling scared.

My older sister and I are sharing a room - I have ear plugs in and am dead to the world.

My parents are in a room beside us. it’s a quiet night, we have been told there is surveillance and gates are closed at night.

I wake up the next morning to my family in confusion... the lock has been sawed out of the door.

My little sister (21 at the time) couldn’t sleep at all that night, she said she had a weird feeling.

Around 1am she heard fiddling with the lock - the the second of two doors to get into our place.

She feels a knot in her stomach, unsure of what to do.

Instead of waking up and getting my parents, she just assumed it was someone with a key to the wrong door.

When the door slowly swings open, she sees a large man with a flashlight, scanning the room. He sees her, she sees him.

She fake-sleeps, holds her breath, and lays very still.

After about a minute, he slowly closes the door, she hears foot steps running away.

She doesn’t remember hearing a car, and the nearest road is 2km away, meaning he may have walked to us.

My sister gets up after an indiscernible amount of time and pushes the door shut.

She said she thought she was dreaming.

She stayed awake for a while texting a friend until she somehow went to sleep.

The owner of the hotel blamed us for “flaunting” wealth (we don’t act flashy with jewelry or other possessions while on vacation to avoid this very situation, so it was an odd claim).

The hotels defensiveness along with their reluctance to call the police caused us to believe they were possibly involved and thought we were still in Florence since our car hadn’t left all day.

Turns out my sisters “freeze” response was somehow the right thing to do.

Thank god nothing happened to her.

Username: natureem

Last year in October there was my favourite singer was on tour and I had gotten a concert ticket as a gift from my grandma.

The problem was it was like 500km away(which is considered far in my country and all through europe) but I was 17 and my mother wouldn't allow me to go to the concert in Amsterdam and basically told me I needed to go to Berlin because my uncle lives there and she didnt want me in another country.

So we set it all up and everything went smoothly.

I went on my way by train and bus.

When I got there everything was ok.

As I arrived 5 hours before the concert, I made a stroll from the tram to a supermarket and McDonald's and then took a stroll through a park to get to a bus stop that would get me to the location.

I had met up with some people there and we waited to get in.

But after the supporting act I felt my breath getting hitched and my heart start to pound. So I went out and smoked a cigarette to calm down.

As I went back in I first wanted to get back to my friends but nearly got into a fight and I could feel a panic attack hit.

So now the concert was about to start I was alone and panicked.

So I went upstairs where less people where and I still had a good sight.

After the concert I was still crying and now my phone went crazy and shut off. Now I didnt know where to go and I was alone again.

Before I could even text anyone.

But I had the phone number of my other uncle on my arm because i lived with him and went back to the venue and called him.

But the lady that was so kind and let me use her phone was so kind and brought me to the next major tram station where she needed to go.

I was still shaken up but pulled myself together.

As I got into my tram she told me everything was fine and I drove off.

But I suddenly got really anxious again and there was this guy staring at me the whole ride from the other side of the car so I went into another one at the next station where more people I got in pretending I saw a friend.

Then I ducked away so he couldn't see me and pretended to talk to my uncle on the phone.

When I finally got to the station and got out he was standing on the platform too but I already saw my uncle in the distance so I nearly ran up to him and hugged him.

The guy literally got into the tram that went the other way as it pulled up a minute later.

Hadn't my uncle been there I'm sure something would have happened.

I know this isn't as bad as the others.

But it was very traumatic for me.

But it was my only bad concert experience.

Username: deeebs420