Because I was very bored, I made a map of the chase from my post:
danceswithcats - That was almost poetic, I can definitely understand having that happen would bring a bit of fear.
I had some emotional fear just a few nights ago. I spilled my soul to my best friend, telling her how I felt about her and just basically expounding stuff I’d been keeping inside so as to not rock the boat of our friendship. But I finally spilled it all, and suddenly was gripped by the fear that this would affect our close friendship and I would lose someone who I cared deeply for. I had a restless night and a long day until we talked again. I shouldn’t have been so scared but I truly was terrified I could lose my best friend.
At an amusement park. My youngest is 8 and was ~3 inches too short for one virtual reality ride, Lara Croft: Tomb Raider. She’s also very slim. My dad’s nickname for her is Tiny. Anyway, a dude with the stick saw her and let her pass with a shrug. I ask, “Does this ride have cages for kids?” (A lot of the rides have “cages” where you can put young kids or people who freak out at the last minute while you ride.) He says he thinks so. So we go in, thinking we’ll put her in the cage.
The “ride” is a series of preliminary movies and such where you enter a room and they basically give you a backstory. Yawn. Finally, we get to the actual ride and we look around. There’s no cage! A dude is in the room we just exited from and I go to talk to him but they close the doors right as I get near. The exit doors are closed. So instead of doing what I should have done (banged on the door until someone let me out), we went ahead and strapped WeePundit in. I’m envisioning this “ride” to be like Terminator 3D at Universal - scary but fairly innocuous in terms of physical danger.
HA! Almost immediately you are flipped upside down in your seat. The only thing holding you in is a shoulder harness that locks to a pelvic harness. Great for someone of my size. Not so great if you’re little and have narrow shoulders. There’s a real possibility (in my mind, at least) that a teeny person could slip out through the shoulder harness. Which is probably why there’s a height restriction! I holler at my husband to hold WeePundit’s hand and to NOT LET HER GO. I’m envisioning her being thrown out of the ride at 60mph and just laying in a heap.
Everyone was screaming as the ride flipped you up and down and backwards and forwards and I knew there was nothing I could do but wait for the ride to be over. At one part they hang you upside down, suspended, over a (pretend) fire pit. The heat is rushing up at your face and I’m just praying that WeePundit doesn’t slip through and land in the hot pit! I could hear myself saying, “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
Mercifully, the ride was short but I’ll never forget the ice cold fear that went through my veins.
She’s going to be 12 before I let her on another ride.
Well, I was chased by UFOs in the last 70s through the backwoods of Tennessee. I was going from Atlanta to Memphis by way of Nashville, but there is a small backroad that cuts off an hour or so.
We came up to the lip of a valley and saw a ‘shooting star’ so we made a wish and kept going, then we noticed that the ‘shooting star’ stopped dead and performed a 90 degree turn before dissapearing over the other side of the valley.
That took some of the wonder out of seeing a rare natural phenomena.
We drive out of the valley and things are dull, it’s 9:00pm on a Wednesday evening in November and it’s cold. Then the silver saucer shape with orange and aqua colored lights starts to peek out over trees and houses. Not only that, but there are two funny silver colored eleptical shapes with lights around the middle flying low to the north towards Nashville.
Initially, it’s hard to panic when you don’t believe what you are seeing. As we drove along, the sauce got closer and closer and was tracking us, veering off when we passed houses or other oncoming cars.
Now, I am beginning to worry. THAT’S a saucer and it is flying only 50 feet away and a few hundred feet over us. I don’t have time for this! I am going to graduate next week and I have no time to spend on Mars. (Hysteria induced fears are SO funny in retrospect).
My loosely Catholic roommate has begun the Hail Marys and I am flashing on every scifi story, book, novel, tv program and movie I have ever known. I know there is a medium small town up ahead but my imagination has made all the inhabitants puppets of the alien overloads who now operate out of this town.
The other two ships keep buzzing around but the main saucer sticks to us. I slow down, they slow, I speed up, they speed up. I am all but caught.
The lights of the town are starting to show and our saucer has veered off. We stop in town and decide we lost them so we will continue and if we see them again, we turn around and go to the police but I am not stopping for anything 'til I am back in civilization.
So, back out on the road out of time, we are starting to feel pretty cocky for having had such a grand adventure that ended so well! Ha Ha Ha! All’s well! We are only 3 hours or so out from Memphis!
That’s when the saucer came from behind and passed over us. Uh-oh. They’re baaaaccccckkkkk!
So, another 20 minutes of hide and seek. Panic builds. Another shallow valley and no saucer. We come over the lip of the valley and the saucer has landed! On the road ahead of us! A solid band of non-glare white light covers the road from side to side and we are blocked, trapped and screwed.
I slam the brakes and yank the wheel and we are off on a free wheeling trip through a sheared corn field in pitch dark except for the gentle glow from the craft behind us.
We made it back to town and got a police escort to the interstate (no small trick, they thought we were doped up chicks on a toot) and as soon as we could get to a gas station with Very Bright Lights I hit the restroom and relieved every orifice I had. Repeatedly.
Couldn’t sleep for days and couldn’t go outside without an escort to check the sky for almost a year.
To this day, that is my yardstick for panic and fear. Few things have come close. Thankfully!
'Course, nowdays I figure they were just alien teens out for a night of joyriding with daddy’s saucer and harrassing the earth girls.
Try having an apical chest drain inserted without anaesthesia - now that’s mean…
**
Been there, done that, and been asked to donate my remains to science at the same time. Having admitted myself to hospital to be told that my left lung had completely collapsed and my right lung was at 50% capacity (which is apparently a record for self-admitted patients), they then couldn’t reinflate either lung. Describing exactly what they were going to do to me and then giving me a bunch of release forms … not the happiest day of my life.
The worst words I have ever heard were…
“Lola was in a car accident and she’s been taken to the hospital”
She was 8 months pregnant with our youngest daughter, who just happened to turn three last week.
It was pure terror.
I think one of the scariestmoments of my life was taking this math final I had in 7th grade, my parents had convinced me that I had to pass this to live and I had to pass it to pass 7th grade (Which i did). I basicly thought “If I have to repeat 7th grade, thats it, I’ll be a year older than everyone, I’ll never get into a college, my parents will beat me untill the cows come home”. I got a B on it.
I think the second time I ever felt really scared was when I was about 8 , I was absolutley terrified of the dark, I still am. Well, while I was in the shower, the power went out. I felt totally trapped in that little room in that dark and I started screaming like I was being murdered. I think my parents set the short distance running record when they heard that scream,they were there in less than a second.
Number 3 would have to be when I was about 13 and my parents let my sister and I stay home alone as usual, while they went to the store.It was winter and there was a firew in the fireplace, my parents knew they could trust us with it. while I waswatching TV, a spark jumped out of the fireplae and hit some newspapers spread out on the hearth. I saw the whole hearth go up in flames, and instead of “911” i thought “water”, so I threw as much water as I could on that hearth until the fire went out, and by then my parents were home. One thing that really creeped me out was when my dad told me “If the fire had hit the carpet you’d have been goners”. I didnt know if he was right, but I was damn thankful the fire didnt hit the carpet.
So there I am, 17 years old, lying in bed at 11:30 pm or so, having just achieved that floating middle state of consciousness that allows me to transition from waking to sleep. Everyone else in the house is also in bed. I can hear the television on in my parents’ room, and an anchor for the local news is, as usual, reporting to two dozing bodies who are at this point so used to her drone that it is required for them to fall asleep.
Then my dog, downstairs, locked in her cage in the back room, begins to bark. Loudly.
My dog, by the way, doesn’t bark. Not when she’s in her cage. The only circumstances under which she does is when she is able to look out the window and see another canine. But she is not by a window, and there’s certainly no way that she can detect another domesticated animal. My spider sense is tingling.
I call to my father, across the hallway.
“Dad.”
“Rmph,” he responds. Still awake. Good.
“The dog’s barking.”
“Yep.” Apparently the significance of this event has not yet struck him.
“She doesn’t bark, Dad.”
An annoyed groan answers me, followed by a grunted, “Go check it out.”
Thanks alot, Dad. You’re about 40 and have a hefty life insurance policy that would really help me pay for college later. I’ve got about $400 dollars in a student account.
So I amble out of bed, put on my robe, stumble into the bathroom, take about two minutes putting in my contact lenses, and grab the Really Big Stick that I keep in my room for situations such as this. My dog has not stopped barking.
I turn on the upstairs hall light, and shoot down the stairs, purposefully being loud, trying to sound heavier than I am, trying to scare the bejeesus out of any possible intruder, hoping that, if someone is poking around our home, they’ll panic at the noise and reveal their location. No such luck.
So I have to do it the hard way. Slowly but surely, room by room, I peek around each corner, slice the pie, flick on the lights, and inspect every shadowed corner. Adrenaline is pumping like crazy, and I keep tensing my arms around my Really Big Stick, even though my Mad Phat Ninja Skills keep telling me that I need to be relaxed if I want to get all the power behind my strike and take someone’s head off. Finally I reach the back room, where my dog is. She has stopped barking, but she’s standing upright, her snout sticking out of the cage, ears back, as tense as she can appear for something immersed in as much fat as she is.
Turn on the backyard lights, take a peek outside. See our second dog happily trotting about. If someone was out there, he’d have taken their leg off. Turn off lights, close door, lock door.
Turn on porch light, peek outside. Nothing is amiss. Turn off lights, close door, lock door.
Relieved, I start turning off all the lights. I pass through the kitchen, on the way to the stairs, eager to get back to bed.
Then I notice the basement door.
The basement door is unlocked. The bolt is off. The bolt is never off. With exclusion to December, when we drag the Christmas tree upstairs, that door remains locked.
I just stand there staring at the doorknob, holding my Really Big Stick like a katana blade, poised to strike. I stood there for at least five minutes, waiting, listening, trying my damndest to hear anything over the pulsing of my jugular vein. I keep thinking I do, then keep telling myself I’m only hearing someone because I’m trying to hear someone.
I have to make a decision. Should I check it out? Should I open the door and put an end to this standoff? I’ve got to. It’s the only place I haven’t checked. If someone’s inside the house, they’re in the basement. Slowly, carefully, gingerly, fearfully, I reach my hand toward the door…
… and lock the damn bolt. If someone’s in there, they can friggin starve or tunnel out. I went back to bed.
Probably, nobody was there. But I still don’t know for sure, and it still freaks me out.
Mugged in Miami at knifepoint at 17. Thrown against a wall and the knife was sticking in my ear. No one knew where I was. I’d lied to my parents about where I was going to be, and went to Florida on Spring Break.
Mine are fairly tame:
A couple years ago, I woke up to the phone ringing and someone telling me my parents had been in a wreck. My ‘common’ (ha!) sense told me that if either of my parents were okay, one of them would have called me themselves. It was neither of my parents on the other end. I ran around grabbing clothes and getting dressed, crying and shaking and thinking they were dead. When I finally got to where they’d wrecked, I saw several ambulances and neither of my parents. Finally, somebody pointed me toward a police officer’s car, and both of my parents were inside, with nary a scratch. A truck had pulled out in front of them at the intersection of two busy highways and my father had clipped the back end with their truck.
The entire drive there, though. . . I kept thinking I would have to tell my brother that our parents were dead, and how in the HELL would I take care of a 16 year old boy? I don’t ever remember being that terrified at any other point in my life.
One other time, I left a friend’s house in the middle of the night to find a guy sitting in my car, flipping through my CD case. I pretty much went batshit and started screaming for him to get out of my car. He jumped out and ran down the street. . . and I chased him. That thought in itself is hysterical. It wasn’t until afterwards that I was scared, and then I was pretty shaken up. He made off with my wallet and some CDs. A week later, he was caught and I had to go identify him. I thought I’d see something like on television, you know, a lineup of people. Instead, I was taken to a room to pick up my stolen stuff, and there the guy sat, smoking a cigarette, not even cuffed. That was certainly weird, although not really scary. Everything he’d taken from me was returned, except for the actual leather wallet my credit cards and checkbook had been in, so I told the officer that. The guy then looked at me and said, “Yeah, if I find that I’ll give you a call and get it back to you.” :eek:
WHOA!!!
Thank God the Soviets sucked. . .
Tripler
:eek:
I’ve posted about this before, but it was still the most terrifying experience of my life.
I made the mistake of meeting a guy I’d met on the internet. 95% of the people I talk to online, I know from real life first.I’m not real big on the chatting with random strangers thing. So he wanted to meet, out of careless stupidity, I agreed. I drove up to where he was staying, about 45 minutes away. We met, he took me back to his hotel room. We were getting along good, he appeared to be normal. He kissed me, I kissed back. And then he hit the insanity point. He grabbed my arms, tied them behind me, and tied my feet to the chair legs. I was kicking and protesting, but he was a lot stronger than me. He shoved his dick in my mouth, and forced me to give him a blowjob. He told me he’d kill me if I didn’t cooperate. I was sobbing. When he went to rape me, he put a bag over my head, because apparently lack of oxygen makes orgasms stronger or something. I couldn’t breathe, I was so terrified he’d leave me for dead in that cheap motel room, and no one would ever find me, or know where I was. He finally took the bag off, after 5 minutes or so. During the 5 minutes, he would open the bag briefly, to give me a few gasps of air before tightening the bag again. He moved me to the bed, tied me to the bedpost, and proceeded to jerk himself off on top of me. When he came, he covered my face, my chest, and my hair. He took pictures. I was begging him not to leave me for dead, he just laughed,and finally untied me. I threw my clothes on halfway, grabbed my stuff, and ran for my car.
Driving home, I was sobbing, and I had no idea where I was. So I pulled into a gas station, and asked the attendant for directions. She kept asking if I was okay, and I said yes. I went in the bathroom, and looked in the mirror, and almost screamed. My bra was hanging out of my tank top, my shorts were barely on. My hair was a mess. Dried cum covered my face, and my eye was slowly becoming infected. Plus, my face was all splotchy from the crying. I looked like shit. I had to stop for directions 3 more times before I finally figured out how to get home. Once I did, I just stayed in my room and cryed. When my mom asked what was wrong, I told her I broke up with my boyfriend. To this day, she still doesn’t know what happened, although several of my close friends know the story. For the most part, they were very supportive, and I couldn’t have made it through that ordeal without any of them. But when they pushed me to press charges, I just couldn’t do it. I just wanted to forget it ever happened, and they couldn’t accept that.
That was almost 3 years ago. It took me a long time to move on afterwards, even now I’m still not completely better. I haven’t had a normal relationship since, I’m terrified of getting involved with people I don’t know real well.
The fear that I felt when he put that bag over my head…I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Nobody deserves to have to go through that. Nobody.
I just remembered another one. I got a call from someone at AOL/Digital Cities saying that my husband was being taken by ambulance to the hospital. We were new to the area (AOL had just moved us to VA from AZ) and knew almost no one. I got a neighbor that had kids that I’d gotten to know a tiny bit to watch Dominic while I set off to try to find the hospital (I didn’t know the area at all), wondering what condition he would be in.
He was awake when I got there. He’d had a seizure. No one knows why he had a seizure. He’d never had one before, and he has never had another one. He had CAT scans and everything. He was out for a few minutes and really freaked out his co-workers. He says he doesn’t remember most of the ambulance ride.
Gaijin- You are the veritable bomb!
Your story made me laugh til I cried
Several in no particular order.
1981 my car is down for service and I am driving a buddies '74 Civic (way smaller than the current models) Hollywood Freeway going about 50 mph, all cars about 3 car lengths apart. the pickup infront of me makes a quick lane change and I am lookng at the front end of a full size Ford sedan. At first I think the guy has spun out, then I realize HE’S DRIVING THE WRONG WAY ON THE FREEWAY!
I flip a quick glance over my shoulder and make a lane change to the right. He passes the side of my car close enough that I could have reached out and touched it. Stopped called the cops on a call box. Every customer I saw that day said I looked white as a ghost.
Driving my buddies Porsche home one night I go to make a lane change to the right just before a ramp from freeway to freeway. Anyway the pickup/camper in front of me jams on his brakes, just as I am making the lane change. I jerk the wheel to make sure I clear him. This unbalances the car and when I go to straighten out in the new lane the back end comes around. So here I am at 75 facing the traffic in the left lane with a left hand sweeper approaching. Correct with wheel, and Now I am looking at the trees on the other side of the guardrail. Correct again and now I am only about 45 degrees out of phase. Once more and I am straight and down to 35. Drop it into 2nd and get out of dodge. Turn to wife and ask if she is OK. She replies with a quote that I will never forget “I promised myself I wouldn’t scream unless we got backwards” I love this lady.
Went to an oral surgeon for serveral teeth when I was a teenager. They gave me a general. Did I mention that this was an early AM apointment? Did I mention that the window in the room where I was faced East? At this point I am sure you can guess that the blinds were open. So I start to come out from the general. Mind is working, body is not. All I can see is bright redish light (inside of my eyelids with lots of sunlight on them) Mouth full of blood. then I can kind open my eyes, but can’t focus, and can’t move. I am sure they have screwed up the drugs and I will be a veggie the rest of my life. Scream for the nurse, nobody shows. Keep screaming still nobody shows. Finally a nurse shows up and then proceeds to ream me out cause I am distrubing the other patients. Asshat.
Deadly Nightlight - I appreciate the sentiment, but I didn’t think it was funny at the time. 
Pammipoo, reading your story made me want to be sick and punch through my window. If I had known you when this happened, I can’t honestly say I wouldn’t have attempted to murder that … man.
Another story- Two pals and I, living in our small, boring town, suddenly get the idea to go ghost hunting. There’s a forested park not too far away that was supposedly haunted, so we grab a video camera, a couple of flashlights, and mosy on down there.
It’s about 10:00 pm at the time, and the park has been closed since sundown. We, of course, were far too BRAVE to venture along the paved pathways where we had very little chance of spraining an ankle- no, we had to just amble randomly through trees and bushes.
Then we try to turn on the video camera, so as to have irrefutable evidence of the ghost we’re going to valiantly pursue. The battery has died. No worries, we’ve still got a photographic camera (you know, the ones you take photos with). So we get ourselves pretty deep into the forest, and then, one by one, all within a space of a minute and a half, our flash light batteries all die.
We turn around and begin stumbling back in the general direction we came from. Our conversation went something like this:
Pal 1: “Dude, something just touched me! Something just touched me!”
Pal 2: “Is it still touching you?”
Pal 1: “Uh… no, no, I’m ok, I’m ok.”
Pal 2: “Holy crap! I just saw somethin’! I swear I just saw somethin’!”
Gaijin: “What did you see?”
Pal 2: “I’m not sure, but it’s over there!”
Pal 1: “Over where?”
Pal 2: “Over there, I’m pointing at it!”
Gaijin: “We can’t see where you’re pointing, you dork!”
Pal 2: “Oh, doesn’t matter, I think it’s gone.”
Gaijin: “Gah!” thump
Pal 1: “Shit, man! The ghost just got 'im! The ghost just got him!”
Pal 2: “Where are you, Gaijin? Are you okay?”
Gaijin: “I just tripped, I’m fine.”
twig snapping
Gaijin: “Sweet Jesus! What the hell was that?”
Pal 1: “I don’t know man, but I think it’s getting closer!”
Pal 2: “Listen!”
We all spend about two minutes, listening to nothing and for everything.
Pal 2: “Where is it? I can’t see it!”
Gaijin: " ‘Four meters, man! Four meters! It’s on top of us!’ " (allusion to a scene from ‘Aliens’)
All: nervous chuckling
We march onward.
Pal 1: “It’s somebody else’s turn to take the front, man!”
Gaijin: “It’s somebody else’s turn to take the back! If anyone’s gonna get whacked first, it’s whoever’s gonna be in the back!”
Pal 1: “Then why would one of us switch with you?”
Gaijin : “Well we’ve got to shift somehow.”
Pal 2: safely from the middle “Why don’t you two just switch?”
A few swishes are heard as Pal 1 and I blindly attempt to slap Pal 2. We make contact a few times
Pal 1: “Guys, did I ever tell you about the time I saw the monster that lives in my backyard?”
more slapping noises
Gaijin and Pal 2: "Is this really the best time- " “You stupid motherfu-” "To tell us about your freaking monst- " “Idiot poopscoop! I’m scared enough as it is!”
We eventually made it out of there, drove home, and fought over the privileges to use the restroom first. We eventually rolled dice for it. I was last.
All my scary moments are largely due to an unhealthy lack of respect for my own being. In fact, the only reason that I’m not yet dead is probably out of courtesy for my parents. But even though I wasn’t exactly acting in a safe manner when these events occurred, they were still frightening. These are all in the instantaneous fear category.
1: Skiing: At the time I was a pretty awful skier, and I’d be worse if I tried it now because I switched to snowboarding after this accident. I was with a ski school in St. Moritz, and the visibility must have been between two and three metres. I was at the back of the train of novice skiers and lost sight of the person in front of me. Suddenly, on my right I catch sight of the whole group standing together. I go to turn towards them, but another skier comes on my right. I’m forced to go straight and head over the lip of a fairly steep hill. In no time I’m going too fast to control myself, can’t see anything further away than two metres and know of only one way to stop at this speed – falling over. This I did, badly damaging something in my shoulder that required me to be carted off the mountain and still prevents me from doing push-ups four years later. It wasn’t the injury that was scary though, more the experience of being totally out of control and the words of my old ski teacher - “If you ever start going too fast, just fall over” looping in my head.
2: Diving: This incident wasn’t more creepy than scary, but I’ll retell it anyway. My friends had managed to convince me to attempt a forward flip off a five metre (sixteen feet) diving platform. I took the run up, jumped and spun forward. Now, if there’s one place where you could really do without Déjà Vu, it’s when you’re upside down and five metres above a swimming pool. But here I am, spinning mid-air, and the only thing I can think of is “Wow… I’m sure I’ve done this before… Maybe in a dream?”. Next thing I know, I’ve spun too much and landed on my chest giving me something like whiplash for a week or two. I haven’t done this since, and now I am always wary of getting strange flashbacks in extreme situations.
3: Cycling: Unlike the other two events I chronicled, this one could have easily killed me. I was cycling about as fast as I could down Bahnhofstrasse, Zürich’s main shopping (and banking) street. Down the middle of this street, there are two tram tracks. It is better to cycle between the two grooves that make up a tramline, but then you have to be vigilant to avoid your wheels falling into either of the gaps. Of course, if you’re cycling on a tram track, then you have the added danger of a tram coming up behind you. As I cycle along, I quickly look back to make sure none of these mechanical street beasts have suddenly snuck up. There’s nothing there, but as I look forward again I see an old woman has stepped out into the road and is about two metres in front of me. Fearing for her life, I just slam on both brakes which of course flips my bike over the front wheel and leaves me landing square on my head. Before that day I hadn’t been very good at wearing a helmet, but have always worn one since. Because I wore one that day, I got away with nothing more than a cracked helmet and a white face, instead of a cracked skull and brain damage.
4: Roller-Blading: I don’t roller blade to do tricks, I roller blade to get places, and the most efficient way of getting somewhere is to go fast. This is precisely what I was doing as I hurtled down a sidewalk beside a road on a hill leading down to Zürich (Waldburg to Rehalp). I had done this many times before, and soaring across tarmac at about 21mph was something I assumed I could control. On this particular occasion, my right roller blade unexpectedly started shaking back and forth. Fear striking through my heart, I lifted it up to try and get rid of the wobble. As I put the blade back onto the ground again, I lost control completely and went rolling into the road. Luckily there were no cars around, otherwise it could have been much worse. The pain was immense at first, but I quickly discovered I was lucky enough to escape with nothing but grazes on my arm and a demolished watch. I still roller blade, but find myself far too tense on steep hills these days.
This leaves snowboarding as the only non-team sport I do where I haven’t yet had a bad accident. Watch this space? I hope not, as all the incidents I talked about above, and numerous less significant accidents have turned me into a much more careful person. I am certainly not of the ‘I’m invincible’ teenager category, at least not anymore.
Anyone rememeber the tornado in Nashville in, was it spring of 98? Got caught outside in that. It sucked. I remember getting knocked to the ground by a blast of wind, thinking, shit that was some strong wind, and then running like hell to get inside.
Second time, I went out on a 12’ sailboat on Lake Michigan, in late October. I was doing fine, surfing in on waves and then beating back out, but on one tack I went out too far, and cleared a point that had been sheltering me from the wind. All of a sudden, the wind went from too strong to really scary. Problem was with only one sail on the little boat the wheather helm was so strong that I couldn’t get the thing to come around and run off down wind. There wasn’t a jib to back or anything. So I got stuck, head on into the waves which were probably 8-9’ with an occasional big one, and it was getting dark. All I could think was that eventually one of these waves is going to roll me, and I won’t be able to get the boat back up, and even though I had a wetsuit on, the water was damn cold.
After being stuck like that and being blown further off shore, eventually I got “lucky” and a big swell broke over the boat and almost knocked it over, but instead just pushed the bow around far enough that I could run off down wind and reach into shore. It really wasn’t until I hauled my ass onto the beach that I got scared.
Waking up from dead sleep and finding my bed shaking. I wonder wtf? Realize its my boyfriend who is shaking and that he’s having a seizure. He’s an epileptic, but during the 7 years I’ve known him I’ve never seen him have a seizure. I flip out and call his mom. She says call an ambulance. I do. She comes over before they do because he lives like 3 blocks away. After the seizure he can’t talk. He looks confused and keeps grunting. I didn’t know what to do…all i wanted was for him to smile and be his normal self again.
Little did i know I’d see him go through a series of grand mal’s later on that day. I hated seeing him like that. I hated seeing him in pain and having no control over it.
My other incident is too long to describe but I can shorten it by saying a deranged gangster and his posse chased after me and a friend telling us they were going to kill us and rape us. I sped across down a bunch of streets and saw 2 cop cars. I pulled up next to them and the gangsters dissapeared. I then asked the cops to follow me home to make sure I wasn’t being followed. They were nice and did. But when this all started I was so certain that I was going to die.
Jesus Pammipoo, that’s a horrible, horrible story. Is there any way you could still find the guy, if you wanted to? I ask because of this:
I don’t want to sound critical or condescending or mean so read this to yourself in a nice, calm voice: By not pressing charges you wished it on a lot of people.
“People” like this guy make me absolutely sick. It’s horrible that so many people are falsely accused and imprisoned for rape while subhumans like this who genuinely scar people and deserve the worst possible punishment still walk free. Again, no offense to you Pammipoo, because I can’t possibly put myself in your shoes, it’s just frustrating to know that this guy is probably still out there.