Let's Not Meet: Oh, Skype...

Over the weekend, I checked my Skype for the first time in months.

I had a contact request, and I wasn't sure who it was. The username was something silly, like young_love_money. I added him so I could see his info, but I still couldn't figure anything out. He tried to call me on Skype later that day. I didn't anwer. He sent me about five messages. "Hi." "How are you?" "You there?"

"What's up?" "Hellooooo?". I got another call. And then another. And then another. He kept changing his username too.

I was getting calls about every 5 minutes. Then the messages started going angry and sexual. "I like sex. I'm gonna fuck you." "What the fuck?" "I want you to see my penis." More calls...more messages. I deleted him, but I kept getting calls. I couldn't figure out how to block him on my phone.

My boyfriend and I went to my dad's house to watch football with him and the other men in my family that night. I kept getting nasty messages, but no calls. My boyfriend told me to call it and see if anyone picked up.

I call it, and MY FUCKING STEPBROTHER'S SKYPE STARTS RINGING.

My step brother scrambles for his phone, and stops the call. My call hangs up right as he ignores the call. He then goes upstairs and didn't come back down.

He is a 29 year old, 6'4", 260 pound manchild that still lives at home and doesn't work. He made me uncomfortable before because he has a temper, invades space, and constantly makes very inappropriate jokes at the strangest times. Now I'm extremely nervous, but I don't want to tell my dad about it because I don't want to strain his new marriage at all. I also know that no matter what, this guy's mom will baby him and act like he didn't do anything wrong. She's the reason he acts the way he does.

EDIT: A BIG BIG edit. I feel I should give some background on my dysfunctional family, and why I don't want to tell my dad or stepmom. I'll also answer some questions.

My boyfriend knows. I would rather not tell my father. I already know that nothing will be done. His mom will never ever confront him. My brother lives with them and has had several issues with him, and nothing has been done. Stepmom laughs and says "Hahaha, he's so silly. He's just giving you a hard time." Dad gets mad and says my brother is being too sensitive. It's things like refusing to reset the wireless router (which is kept in his room) so my brother can do his online college assignments because he doesn't want to stop his game.

Stepmom says that he has "emotional issues", and is incapable working because of his condition. The only condition that I can see that he actually has is ADD. The rest is because he is an only child that has always been babied and never told no. He knows he can get anything he wants from his mom, and has a hissy fit until he gets it. She brushes off everything he does. If I were to tell her about this, she would laugh and say that he was just joking with me because that's just his humor. My dad would be mad at me because he tries his hardest to not upset the woman he's with, even if it means upsetting his kids. We had issues with his last wife. She was pretty, but a drug addict and a cheater. He quit seeing me because his wife was jealous of me. If she didn't want him to go somewhere, he stayed home. He would get mad at my brother and I if we ever got upset about it and tell us that we're jealous of his wife. She was involved in a hit and run, and tried to say that she let me borrow the car and that I must of done it. My dad went along with it, and told me to stop lying and admit to what I did.

My dad is ok with him living there, because he's been told from the beginning about his "condition". They were actually high school sweethearts and married in their early 20s. Divorced, didn't speak for 30 years, ran into each other at a gas station, started dating, got married in August. Really, my dad cares more about a woman's looks than anything else. They're both 58, and look like they're in their late 30s. She has the body of a 16 year old, and they both enjoy running. I actually really like her. She's pretty, very giving, successful, and good to my dad. She just has a fucked up son, and she's to blame for it.

I'm not extremely worried. I never have a reason to be alone with him anywhere. I do think that this was some game that he was playing for his own amusement. Like "haha, you don't know who this is". After I called him on skype, I haven't heard anything else. That was the end of it. He was caught. He also won't come around me now. If I'm visiting my dad he will stay upstairs. I visit pretty often, because we live near each other and they invite my boyfriend and I over for dinner a lot.

I just know the holidays are gonna be super awkward for my boyfriend and I now. He's creepy, and I don't want to give him a gift or be near him. I always thought he was creepy, but not that creepy. My boyfriend will look after me, though.

I'm never by myself anywhere anyways. I have a scary ex (I guess I attract crazies), so I use the buddy system. Someone is with me at all times, just in case.

TL;DR: Got multiple phone calls and gross messages from a mystery skype account. Found out it was my new step brother.



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by reddit user 45MinutesOfRoadHead via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: They Didn't Know I Understood Spanish

About a year ago in my final semester in college I worked at a department store in the mall. I didn't have a car yet so I asked for day shifts because it was a 2 hour bus ride back home. So basically if I had a closing shift, I'd get done at 11 but not get home until 1 am. But sometimes I'd be given closing shifts much to my annoyance since I had a 6 45 am class & my mothers worry because who wants their kid on public transport that late? (Sometimes she could come & get me but it'd be too much of a hassle to get my younger sisters out that late & such so I never asked her)

My managers being the jerks that they were gave me a week of closing shifts, knowing my situation. I was pissed but whatever. One night I had just finished my shift, got on the bus (I sat in the back)& was minding my business when my iPod died. I was annoyed but I just kept my earbuds in & occupied myself by playing a crossword on my phone.

About 2 seats behind me I hear these guys speaking Spanish. Now, my stepmother is Puerto Rican so while I understand a fair bit of Spanish, I don't speak it. So i hear them talking but I don't pay attention because it's rude to eavesdrop & all until they say "that black girl up there" then my ears perk up. I keep my earbuds in so that they think I can't hear them & I continue listening. What they're saying is horrific. To paraphrase, they knew my stop (second to last one before the bus gets back to the terminal & while my stop is at the front of my neighborhood, it's got no street lights & at this time of night, empty.) & to put it simply were planning on "snatching that piece of ass up"

I was about 20 mins away from home so I knew I had to act quickly. Since I knew they could see me (they were 2 seats behind me but like across if that makes sense) i pretended to play on my phone, oblivious while I was actually texting my mom.

"Mom, can you please meet me at the bus stop" 5 minutes go by, no answer. We're getting closer to my stop so I decide to call her cell. No answer. I call the house phone & she finally answers. Its about 1230 am so she was asleep. I try to talk as cheerily & calmy as I can. This was our convo. 

"Hey mom, did you get my text?" 

"Uh no...what's up?" 

"Oh I sent you a picture of these jeans I'm gonna order online when I get home. I REALLY need your opinion so I REALLY need you to look since the sale ends at 1 am." 

She gets the hint that I need her to look at her cell so I say goodbye & hope for the best. We get to my stop & I see my mom's car. I snatch my shit up & hightail it off the bus. I don't even look behind me to see if they're following me. I jump in the car & tell my mom to just GO.

I look in the rearview & I see the guys staring at the car.

The next morning I called my job & told them I quit. No more public transport for me. Thanks to my stepmom for teaching me Spanish. Thanks to mom for getting the hint. Weird Spanish speaking guys, let's not meet again.
  
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by reddit user kirashadowcat via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Only An Urban Legend...?

This happened a couple of months ago. It feels hollow to put a catchy title on what happened to me because it freaked me the fuck out for awhile, but I think it fits in this community.

I was driving home from work at 2 am. I'm a nurse and I live in a small city. The roads were totally deserted and it was a freezing night. I don't live far from work, maybe a couple of miles. I'm driving down a residential street around the corner from my house and I see a man laying face down in the street.

Now remember, I'm a nurse. My first thought was "Great, gotta help this guy up." I was coming off a long shift and falls happen all the time. As I slowed down the car I suddenly realized what an idiot move that was. I'm a 100 lb woman and I don't carry any weapons. I thought I should do something to help the guy so I called 911 as I drove past him and slowed to a stop at the end of the block. While I was stopped at the light I explained to the dispatcher that there was a man in the road who might need assistance.

All of a sudden I hear a loud BANG! BANG! from the driver's side window. I screamed and looked over. A man was pounding on my window and jiggling the handle of my locked car. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that there was no man laying in the street. Still on the phone with 911, I screamed "I'M SO SCARED!" to the dispatcher and floored it through the red light. I quickly told him what had happened and even though I was right by my house, he told me to keep driving. After a few minutes I had calmed down and he told me to loop back around. I pulled over down the road from my house and stayed in the car. I didn't see the man anywhere, so I got off the phone with the dispatcher who told me he was sending a police car to cruise the area.

As I gather up my things I do a final scan of the area, and I see the man. He is walking with two other men. I hunched way down in my car until they were far down the road, then bolted into my house.

I don't know if he had ill intent, but it freaks me the hell out that he wasn't alone. ALWAYS LOCK YOUR CAR DOORS. And carry mace.
  
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by reddit user potato_picasso via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Cleaning Houses

In the mid-80s, my mum was a cleaner in Australia. She would do clean houses in suburban areas and would sometimes do houses in rural/wine regions (we lived near both).

She would leave business cards at the local shops and got most of her business this way, and some through referrals and word of mouth.

One day she got a call from a lady who sounded like she was around 60, asking mum to clean her old farmhouse. She made a lot of odd demands and mum would usually meet clients before taking on new business. In this case, the lady did not want to meet mum and said she would leave the keys under the front doormat. Mum agreed mainly because the lady was quite obviously wealthy and was offering to pay mum substantially more than she would reasonably expect.

Mum went to the house on a Monday morning and said she already felt unnerved by the long driveway. The house was essentially in the middle of a very large, and very empty property. She found the keys and started cleaning.

About an hour in to the clean, she hears the back door shut. Mum was told no one would be at the house so she immediately felt unsafe. She stood frozen in the kitchen for what she said felt like 3-4 minutes although she said it could have been much longer. There was no other car on the property.

She wanted to leave immediately but had two rooms left to do, both were bedrooms. She said as time passed and she heard nothing else, she decided that perhaps it was nothing, or perhaps something had fallen and it wasn't the door after all.

She walked up the hallway and stepped into the bedroom. All over the bed were black and white photos. As mum got closer, she realised the photos were all of her. Some where taken at our family home, and many others were taken at other houses mum would clean. Some through windows or over fences.

She used the house phone to call the police and immediately drive to the end of the driveway. The lady ended up being investigated but continued to claim that it was a break-in. After some time, the police stopped with their searching and we ended up moving to a new town 4 months later.

Every time mum tells me this story I get serious chills. Absolutely a true story too. To the day my mum thinks the lady had something to do with it. But why? And for what purpose?

Any theories?
  
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by reddit user WalterDisneey via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: My Female "Friend"

This is a tale about a friend I used to have years ago. Her name was Sara and I met her in the 7th grade. Back then, she was a normal preteen girl, much like myself. We were best of friends for 7th and 8th grade. We lost touch after our 8th grade graduation because we went to separate high schools: public for her, private school for me.

It wasn't until I moved back into my mother's house at the age of 19, pregnant and depressed from my failed relationship with both my father and ex, that I started talking to her again. We picked right back up where we left off at the end of 8th grade and quickly rebuilt our friendship back to best friend status. She even agreed to be my son's godmother.

Now, I want to take a moment and tell you a bit about Sara and myself. We were the same age, our birthdays roughly two weeks apart from each other. She was the oldest of three girls. We both appeared to look similar almost. Both fairly pale in skin, glasses, and same height (she was a few inches taller than me, but nothing to really brag about) and weight. Her hair color was more blonde compared to my brunetteness and had blue eyes while I have brown eyes. Back to the story.

This takes place a few months after I had given birth. Nothing major had happened between me and her yet, expect she was a little bossy, but I brushed that off as being the eldest sibling. Nothing I couldn't handle. The only thing that I found weird was that she freaked out if I didn't answer her text messages back right away. Even if I was at work and couldn't without fear of losing my job. But I tried brushing it off as her worrying about me.

I had started dating a new guy named Josh. Sara was actually the one that introduced us two because Josh was a good friend with her boyfriend, Rob. Naturally, I started spending a little more time with Josh, but still spent a lot of my time with Sara. She didn't take to this very well, and tried causing problems for me and Josh. After having a sit down with Sara, telling her I wasn't giving up our friendship but neither was I going to push a guy I really liked away. She seemed to have gotten the message and backed off.
Shit hit the fan shortly after Josh and I moved into an apartment together. Sara demanded to spend more time with me while Josh was at work. I really had no problem with it, but her bossiness started to reach unbearable levels. She didn't ask to stay for dinner, simply said she was staying. Asking her to leave for the night fell upon deaf ears and many times crashed on our sofa (causing any possible sexy times with Josh to fade.) It got to the point she started tagging along on our dates, so we simply started not going out. I tried talking to her, but she kept saying if I was a real friend, I wouldn't mind her being there all the time.

Well, we managed to get one free weekend without Sara. She had gone to some water park with her family, so Josh and I got to spend some much needed alone time together. However, because of the strain Sara caused us, we had a hard time enjoying each other. I refused to end my relationship with him and we tried hard to work it out. We tried talking to her boyfriend, Rob, asking if he could help us. He said they were planning on getting an apartment together at the beginning of the following month (she was still living with her parents at this point), but told us it was looking like it was going to be in the same complex as us. I could deal with that, figured she would want to spend time in her new place, decorating it and hosting dinners for her friends and families.

Also note, I had gotten my hair done earlier in the week. I got an awesome new haircut that looked great and loved it a lot. I got many compliments on it from various friends. Well, when Sara came back from her mini vacation, she had dyed her hair to the same color as mine and gotten it cut the exact same way. I didn't really mind too much, it was a pretty sweet haircut, but both Josh and I couldn't get over how weird it was we were looking like twins. She even got colored contacts to wear under her glasses that changed her eyes to the color of brown. Like me.

One night later that week, I was hanging out with another mutual friend of ours without Sara. Her name was Heather. Heather and I had gotten around to talking about Sara when Heather said, casually, "You know she is jealous of your life right? She's even got a huge crush on Josh and you." I really had no idea. She didn't say anything about it to me, and I had no idea she harbored feelings like that for me. She's had many different boyfriends over the years.

After that, I started to notice a shift in Sara. She wanted to spend even more time alone with me, and oddly enough, more alone time with just Josh. On one of these nights, she tried to kiss me. Now, I have no problem with someone being gay. I have many other friends who are, but I am not, and everyone knows it. I like guys way to much. I told her this and she went crazy. Told me I was a lying cunt, that I was leading her on, and that I had to kiss her back because she said so. I told her no, I didn't, and I didn't lead her on. She left shortly after to meet up with Rob and Josh while I took care of my son. I didn't really think anything of it until Rob came over, saying Sara kicked him out of the house because she wanted to talk to Josh alone.

I filled Rob in on what had happened, what Heather said, and my feelings. He sensed something weird was going on. I got Heather to come over to watch my son while Rob and I went back to their apartment to confront her. We found her in bed with Josh. Naturally both Rob and I were upset. Rob and I just left and he crashed on my sofa for the night, though I don't think either of us really did much sleeping.

The next day, I broke up with Josh and Rob broke up with Sara. Rob ended up moving back in with his father and just cut ties with Sara and Josh completely. Sara blamed me for the ending of her relationship with Rob and vowed to make my life a living hell. She kept her apartment in the same complex as mine and tried very hard to get me in trouble with our landlord. At random times, the landlord would stop by saying I had a noise complaint against me or said that someone complained about some awful smell coming from my place. After the third time he came by saying someone saw a rat coming out of my door did he realize someone was just trying to cause me trouble. (I had told him, but he has a job to do I guess.)

When Sara learned that wasn't working, she started calling my home phone and cellphone at random times. Never said anything, and all the calls were Restricted, but I knew it was her. From my window I could see into her apartment and always saw her looking out at my window while on the phone. On the phone the exact times my phones were ringing. I quickly changed my phone numbers and that was the end of that day. No one besides my mom and work had them and neither cared for Sara much after learning what she had done.

When she realized she couldn't get a hold of me via phone, she took to blowing up my email and Myspace/Facebook. Obviously it didn't take me long to block her on that.

However, this takes the cake. Apparently she had a copy of my key. I don't know how she got it, I never gave her a copy. I figured Josh might have given her one when they started to be sexually active or else she just stole Josh's and made her own copy. She took to entering my house when I wasn't home. At first I started noticing little things disappearing or being moved. My bills were no longer on the kitchen counter, but on the dining table. My favorite shirt had gone missing. Cordless phone across the room from where I last remember setting it down. I thought I was simply losing it and misplacing things. (I am a bit scattered brain, but not that much.) This went on for two or three weeks until bigger things were missing. My son's DVD player, my keyboard, cellphone charger, bath soap, towels, and even my son's baby blanket were all taken.

Naturally, I did the most logical thing and called the police and landlord. Landlord changed out my locks ASAP and the cops agreed to talk to Sara. They said they wouldn't be able to do anything unless she let them in and/or admitted it, but they would still try to talk to her. And this is what I was told:

They knocked on the door. She opened it wide enough for them to see the wall behind her. On this wall was hundreds of photos of me, either alone at work or at the store or with my son at the park, store, etc. It wouldn't have been so creepy if it weren't for the fact that she wrote in big letters with red paint "Die [my name] you fucking cunt." It covered some of the photos and the wall.

The police were able to search her place. They found journals full of her writing saying how she wanted to kill me, how she was going to do it, and other fucked up things. She had my work schedule written on her calender (not that it was hard to guess it, it was the same every week) and on a certain day she had it circled and marked as "Kill Day." Police found an unregistered gun and a huge knife. She was arrested.

I promptly moved out and back into my mother's house. I found a new job and changed my appearance. I cut off contact with all our mutual friends (not tha twe had many) and found a new job. I haven't seen or heard from her in 3 years now. For all I know, she is still in jail. I just count my lucky stars.
  
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by reddit user babyhugbears via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet 

Let's Not Meet: Roommate Wanted: Female Only

This is a popular story with my family and most of my friends.

Amanda is my brother's girlfriend. At the time of this story, she was looking for her first apartment and moving out from her parents' house. Her and my brother didn't want to move in together since they had only dated for a few months. She opted instead to search for a roommate online. Browsing Craigslist, she found an ad titled something like "Roommate Wanted: Females Only." This sort of thing was common since the area she was looking in was mostly young professionals.

The listing was for a room in a house for about $225 a month, which was quite cheap compared to the most places listed. The occupant listed herself as a 23 year old college student that wasn't comfortable with living with any males. The other roommate would have their own room and attached bathroom. So far, Amanda was into this place. However, the listing only had a single photo from outside the property. Amanda sent an email wanting to meet the occupant and tour the house. Within 30 minutes, she receives an email back with all the details and time to stop by. The girl worked late hours and wanted Amanda to stop by at 8pm.

When Amanda arrives, there is a handwritten note on the front door saying "Door broken, use back door." Walking around the house, it looks nice but slightly unkempt: tall grass, weeds, dusty windows, etc. Still no alarms for Amanda though. When she knocks on the backdoor and an older man opens the door. At first Amanda thinks she has the wrong house but the man reassures her and says that the occupant (I forget the name) was out and he was the landlord. The occupant asked him to meet Amanda since she was working late. He seemed pleasant and offered to show her around.

Alarms start going off but aren't at red alert yet. First, the guy was clearly in his 40's, unshaven, and looked like he lived in his car. Also, only the kitchen light was on. As they walked around the house, Amanda noticed one huge red flag: No furniture. Nothing. The landlord was polite about answering questions but seemed irritable to keeping lights on for too long, rushing her around and only letting her look at rooms for a few moments. There was a single room that the landlord wouldn't open, telling her that it was the occupant's room and he didn't want to invade her privacy. As they walk down the hallway into the living room, she notices the front door has a plank nailed across it. "Broken" for sure.

Amanda's creep-o-meter is started to ding so she decides to wrap up the walk-through and leave but trying to polite. As she's giving the guy her "thanks for the showing" bit, he perks up and states that he forgot to show her the basement. It's recently furnished and would be a great rec room...and she should take a look down there. At the time, Amanda and the landlord are standing in the small hallway between the front living room and the back kitchen. In this little hallway was the basement door. When he opens the door, it opens outward to create something of a barrier between Amanda and the backdoor. The basement is pitch black. He smiles, motions down the stairs, and says "Ladies first."

What happens next is nothing more than a stroke of luck. Amanda get a text just as some random person parks in front of the house. Thinking on her feet, she pretends it's a phone call and answers her phone. "Hey! Yeah, are you here? I'll come out from around back and let you in. It's great, you have to see it." With a motion of confidence, she excuses herself around the landlord and walks out of the back door. She says the guy just looked at her like he was confused. Once outside, she sprinted to her car and sped like hell out of there.

When Amanda got home, she told her mother and my brother everything. Cops were called, they took her statement, and went to investigate. The Craigslist post had been removed.

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EPILOGUE

The house had been foreclosed over six months earlier and the property had been abandoned. When the police investigated, they found that the closed room the "landlord" didn't want her to look in was where the man had been staying. There was a pile of old dirty blankets, rotten food, and empty gallon jugs everywhere. More creepy was he had plastered ripped up pages from porno mags on ALL the walls in the room (where do they even find porno mags!?).

The really scary part of this was the basement. The man had tied a thin piece of fishing twine at about shin level across the stairs about halfway down. The basement was empty except another pile of old blankets, a broom handle wrapped in leather belts, and a small box with a few rolls of assorted tape (duct, electric, etc).

Amanda ended up not moving in.
  
---by reddit user ScarsAndStripes via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet  

Let's Not Meet: My Artist Friend

So this story happened to me when I was 15 years old. I was a super lonely kid; my home life was in shambles, mom was cheating on dad and told me about it, and I had just started at a new high school the year prior where I didn't know anyone.

Creating art quickly became my biggest coping mechanism... to this day I still love to draw.

I discovered the website DeviantArt around this time, and started submitting my drawings every day. Through this, I made some friends online of all ages. Some very talented people were giving me positive feedback on my work, and this really inspired me. In my deep depression, I felt like dA was a safe haven of like-minded people who appreciated one another. For the first time in a long time, I belonged somewhere... I spent many hours talking to some regulars on the site. Even now, 10 years later, a few of them are still in my life and I cherish their friendship.

But this story is about someone who I never want to meet, EVER again.

DeviantArt also allows writers to submit their stories/poetry to the site. One day, I was on the front page and a poem caught my eye. It was more of an angry rant, full of weird twisted imagery and anti-Christian subtext. Sounds stupid I know, but it was actually quite well written and funny (at least to my 15 year old self). Being a very angry, depressed high schooler, I was drawn in and decided to check this artist out.

Not only was he a prolific writer, with maybe 100 poems and stories on his site, but this man was a very talented visual artist as well. He created amazing illustrations of weird, funny creatures. Some of them were a little sexual, like naked women, but most of them were humorous or gross. His name was Tom. The combination of Tom's writing and visual art skills intrigued me. Even though he was 30 years old, I decided to send him a private message.

We bonded. Soon we began to talk on AIM. I would look forward to talking to Tom every day, and came straight home after school to connect with him. Chatting for 5 hours was a daily thing for us. In hindsight my family probably wondered what I was doing, but they never said anything. Anyway, isolating myself in my room wasn't abnormal at this point. I was so grateful for my artistic friend. I could be as dark and confident as I wanted when we talked... I unloaded a lot of my pain onto him, and he told me about his troubles too. Tom even started to write poetry about me, HAPPY poetry! It made me feel very special, because I had softened this angry dude's heart with my friendship (so I thought). He was reliable, always online whenever I came home...

After maybe 3 weeks of talking, Tom asked for my phone number because he "wanted to hear my voice." I was extremely uncomfortable with this and reluctant. He insisted, and gave me his number to call. Fearing I would lose a friend who was so important to me, I finally gave in.

I should mention that I'm 23 now, and I'm still a shy person... but at 15, I was painfully awkward and detested phone calls. My heart was racing and I was shaky and sweaty as the phone rang.

Tom picked up. "Hello?" my voice sounded shaky. Tom spoke.. I knew his age, but to my relief he sounded like a teenage boy. This made me feel less uncomfortable, but still weirded out. I had no idea what to talk about, and for some reason I felt like crying. Tom and I spoke for a bit. He laughed at the awkward things I said, so I guess the conversation went alright. Honestly I can't remember what we talked about... all I remember is that he barely spoke at all.

We got off the phone and talked online more. He said how happy he was to hear my voice. I was still pretty upset, but glad that I didn't disappoint him. I hoped he wouldn't ask me to call him again, because it was such a stressful experience. But I had poured so much time into talking to this man, that I was willing to be uncomfortable to preserve our friendship. My self esteem was nonexistent.

The next day, Tom wanted me to call again. On the phone I could hear him breathing heavily. He was masturbating. I talked about my day at school, some random thoughts... he stayed silent apart from the breathing. Then when I was mid-sentence, he hung up on me.

When I asked him what happened over AIM, he told me I wasn't talking about anything sexy, something along those lines. I apologized and felt a total sense of failure. The conversation then turned sexual. I told him that I was a virgin (in reality I hadn't even had a real first kiss). Tom was overjoyed by this. Now I really had his attention.

At this point it was May. Our relationship progressed to the point that I let him jerk off to my voice, and even sent him some pictures of me in my underwear when he asked. I had no idea what I was doing, but felt like I had to obey him or he wouldn't be my friend. He started to write poetry about taking a girl's virginity. To his fans on DeviantArt, they were just fictional poems about a fictional girl... but I knew they were really for me. This both thrilled me and made me queasy.

My 16th birthday was coming up in June. Tom and I constantly talked about how badly we wanted to see each other... in the back of my mind, I really missed the days before everything got so sexual. I told him there was no way I could ever fly to Florida, where he lived. Tom insisted on seeing me before my 16th birthday. Eventually we picked a date... he found a hotel near my family's house that was relatively affordable, and even bought tickets to fly out. The plan was that I would skip school that day, and spend the day with him so he could take my virginity. I can't remember if he was even going to stay more than 1 day, to be honest. Before we said our good-nights, Tom wrote, "Will you let me get your ass, too." Not a question, a statement.

I came home from school one day, and my mom was extremely solemn. She told me she knows about Tom. Apparently I had remained signed-in on AOL, but I think she actually got my password to see what I was up to. I began to cry, and defended Tom at first... but then I admitted I was terrified of him. I was so ashamed that my mom saw our sexual conversations, but she hugged me and told me "He won't be coming, I promise." She emailed Tom which really fucking spooked him. Tom began to yell at me, and blow up my phone. He told me he spent $500 on the plane tickets that he couldn't get back. I never picked up any of his calls... he wrote me tons of emails in all caps (I have a few of them saved). He wrote angry, violent poetry on dA about how I betrayed him. I was devastated and hated myself.

On the day Tom was supposed to come visit, I stayed at my best friend's house which was miles away in a totally different community. My mother gave our apartment building a photo of Tom, to make sure nobody let him in. I was totally paranoid that he would pop up for a while after that, but he never did. In fact... I didn't hear from him at all. He stopped submitting any art or poetry.

Over a month went by, and Tom was still MIA. My family and I went to Canada for a music festival... life was slowly going back to normal, and my guilt was fading. Suddenly in our hotel room, my phone rang. It was Tom. I tried to pick up, and I can't remember why, but for some reason since we were in Canada I couldn't talk to him. I think it's because I had an American service provider, or something? In any event, he left me messages. My memory of this is very foggy (he may have actually been texting me, I can't remember at all). A few days later we took a train back to the US, and as soon as we crossed the border I sent him a text. I apologized for what happened and explained that I was in Canada... but that I missed him and I hoped he could forgive me.

Tom told me the reason he was gone for so long. He said that on the day he was supposed to come see me, he got very drunk and tried to kill himself. He stabbed himself all over, including his stomach, left hand, and legs. Feeling last minute regret, he called his mother and she called the police. He told me that his whole apartment was considered a biohazard from all the blood, and after he recovered he spent time in the psych ward. Tom had mutilated himself so badly that the hospital had to amputate his leg and he lost 2 fingers. He told me this was my fault.

I was utterly speechless and my blood ran ice cold. I refused to believe him... but lo and behold, he uploaded some pictures of himself on DeviantArt. His leg was amputated above the knee, and he was missing fingers. I had seen previous photos of him... this was my friend alright.

It's hard to explain how I feel about this situation. I feel very sad for Tom, but I also understand that this wasn't my fault. I was a very lonely child, and desperate for a friend. Tom was a schizophrenic man and a pedophile, as was later revealed by his explicit poetry about little girls. Eventually he was banned from DeviantArt, and I never talked to him again after age 16. A few years ago I looked him up and found his profile on a different site... admittedly I was googling him to see if he was still alive. In his profile picture, he was next to a young woman with his hand over her mouth. It looked like he found someone who was willing to visit him after all.

So Tom... I hope you're okay, but please... lets not ever meet.

P.S. If I take this story down, it's because I'm afraid.
  
---by reddit user meowcat91 via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet  

Let's Not Meet: Stepdaughter for Sale

This actually happened to me when I was a kid. I’m a girl and was 8 years old when this happened. I grew up with my mom and my stepfather in an apartment in Chicago at the time.

So you know, my stepfather was a crackhead. He used, I’m pretty certain, every day. He was a pretty good father, considering he was high all the time. I felt way more close to him than I ever was with my mom. We spent tons of time together, after his morning “walks”.

His habit got really bad. My mother was the only one who could work since he kept getting fired. My mother recently got new furniture, a whole living room set. Two couches, lamps, end tables, rugs, and she even got a new tv. She was pretty proud and happy, mainly because she was able to hide enough money from my stepfather to buy everything.

A few days after she got everything, my mom and I went to Burger King. We came back to the apartment. My mother opened the door and her smile dropped. There was absolutely nothing in the living room. She told me to check my things. My bike, all my video games, my tv, and clarinet were all gone as well. There were quite a few other things gone around the apartment. You already know who was the culprit, my stepfather. Apparently, he owed some people for drugs. He said he had no choice. They said to pay up, or it’ll be everything he loves. As you see, his habit was very, very bad.

Now to the meat of the story. One day, I woke up to my stepfather calling me. It was pretty early, the sun just started to peek into my room. I got up and heard him in the kitchen talking to someone franticly. I couldn’t hear much since my door was closed but I do remember making out a little bit. He said “Man, she’s beautiful!” And “You won’t be disappointed.”

I slipped on my house shoes trying to figure out who he was talking to. I heard one response, but the voice was very deep so I couldn’t tell what was said. It was strange for anyone to be visiting our apartment and especially strange since it was so early. I was tired, confused, and a bit annoyed at being woken up. I opened my door. From it, I have a straight line of sight to the kitchen. I see my stepfather nervously fidgeting, pacing and talking. He saw me and said “Here she is, man.” I stood in my doorway and tried to give him a look like who in the world is he talking to.

He motioned for me to come in. I walk into the kitchen and I see a tall older white man with shades. Looking back, maybe he was late 40’s. He was balding, had a short beard, and he was dressed very nicely. My father said “Here she is, what do you think?” My parents tend to show me off to people for some reason so this wasn’t odd to me. The man looked at me I presume and looked back at my stepfather.

My stepfather had the most nervous smile on his face I have ever seen. My father told me to give a twirl. I was not twirling in front of this strange guy and definitely not this early. So he forcefully turned me. He held my night gown taut so it was fitted against my body and said “Not bad right?” I pushed his hand off me. This was clearly very very strange now. I did not understand what was going on, but I knew something wrong was happening.

The entire time the white man said nothing, just watched me. My stepfather said “You’re going to have to go with him now.” I frowned and asked why, but before I could really start, the white man spoke. He squatted down to my height, smiled, and asked “How old are you?” I said nervously, “I’m 8.” He said “You’re a big girl then. Do you like school?” I said, “I love school.” This little conversation and his smile made me feel a bit at ease.

I look over the man’s shoulder and see my stepfather frowning/glaring at me and it scares me. I have not seen him look like that except at suspicious people to warn them not to mess with him. I keep looking back at my stepfather, trying to answer this man’s questions, knowing I said something wrong from my stepfather’s reaction. The white man glances back at my stepfather while still squatted down to my height. My stepfather looks away in fear. The man stands up, looks back down to me and says “it was nice talking to you. You’re a very smart young lady. Now, go on back to bed.”

I was not used to anyone giving me orders except at school or my parents, but I knew not to question it and walked off to my room. I looked back and he was watching me. I stood inside my room at the door and looked back again. He said “Close your door and go back to bed.” I looked at him and he smiled back and motioned for me to go on. I closed the door and sat in my bed.

I hear the man say something to my father in an angry voice. I hear my stepfather begging very loudly “Please, please take her!” The kitchen has a door leading to the outside staircase. My window was pretty close to it. I hear the kitchen door open so I slid my window open a crack. I hear my stepfather repeatedly begging please. The man yells “She’s a fucking kid!” I try to peek out to see the staircase. There were two large men standing there near the door and on the stairs.

The white man punches my stepfather presumably, I can’t really see the whole scene. I hear a thud inside and outside, I suppose from him falling. The white man and the two men walk down the stairs to a nice black car parked in the alley. I hear the kitchen door close and soon after my bedroom door opens. My stepfather is drenched in sweat and smiles at me sheepishly and says casually to not tell my mother. I just stared at him. He then asked did I want to go to the park. I said no. He walked away and left the apartment.

I sat there trying to put the pieces together. It clicked that my own stepfather was trying to sell me, more than likely to pay off a huge drug debt. Then everything else fell into place. The strange oddly friendly white man considered taking me. Why would he take me? What would he do to me? Where would I go? What about my mom? Feelings of fear, anger and sadness flooded me. I laid there and cried for hours thinking about how close I was to never seeing my mom again and that my stepfather planned to do this to me.

My mother eventually leaves him some years later. I still haven't told her about it, afraid she might lose it. I’m 26 now and it’s still hard to think about it without crying.



---by reddit user linxminx via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Disturbing Drawings

Last summer I worked at a water park slash hotel slash golf course timeshare place. I was hired to draw caricatures in the hotel lobby which was kind of a cool job. It paid really well. I fairly liked it. People like having their picture drawn. I drew a lot of caricatures over the summer and I'll tell you what - You meet all kinds of people.

Here's the story. One slow day two ladies, fat, ugly, missing teeth and absolutely foul smelling walked by with like a ten year old boy and the two ladies were immediately excited about the idea of having their kid drawn. I think they were sisters. They seemed basically normal. Chatted with me, watched me do a drawing and waited for me to finish the one I was working on..

Anyway it came their turn and we started talking again. People would usually have me do a theme to their drawing like, oh, draw us as power rangers or whatever. I asked the kid what he wanted his picture to be about. He didn't say anything and his mother stooped down so he could whisper in her ear. She relayed to me that he wanted to be drawn as Godzilla. I was like oh okay wait do you want to be drawn like fighting Godzilla, riding on his back or what? He spoke to his mother again. No - he wanted to be Godzilla. Okay. Sure like whatever. So he sat down in my chair and I tried talking to him about what he liked, did he play sports - just random stuff I would talk to people about to keep them entertained while I drew. He didn't say anything which is fine like some kids are shy but this kid actually seemed kind of disturbed like there was a reason he couldn't talk or something. That I can't say for sure but these two ladies basically spoke for him and really enjoyed talking to me while they watched me draw. At one point the mother of the kid got really close to me and said she wanted to talk to me when I was done. I was like - um. Okay... Her breath reeked so badly.

I finished the drawing of the kid as Godzilla and he said thank you which surprised me and the two ladies laughed and looked over the picture and liked it a lot. The kid and one of the ladies left for the water park and the mother stayed behind to talk to me as she asked. She said something like 'okay now I'd like you to draw another picture but this one is sort of personal.'

A little concerned, I asked her to explain. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through pictures. She got uncomfortably close to me, had a big smile on her face and said "ready?". I nodded, really weirded out and looked down at her phone to see a picture of a stillborn child that looked as if it had been dipped in blood.

"Beautiful isn't he?" the lady said, "I called him my little monkey. BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE A MONKEY!!!" And she laughed really really loudly.

I was speechless. I sort of slapped my hand to my forehead. It took me a while to respond but all I could think to say was, "All...children are beautiful." trying hard to mask how fucking shocked I was. The lady then said, "Well. I'd like you to draw him as a monkey." I didn't say anything. She scrolled to another picture on her phone. Another premature baby with tubes up its nose - and the woman said, "And this was my little seal. He lasted four hours. Doesn't he look like a little seal?" Of course she wanted him drawn as a seal. Holy shit. So bizarre. Her breath reeked of alcohol and smoke and just general odor and she was laughing in my face.

Without asking, the lady sent the pictures to my cell phone because my number was on the sign by the easel. I was so shocked that I could hardly put a sentence together. I said something to the effect of 'maybe' because I couldn't help but feel bad for her. She said "Great! We're here till Thursday!" And walked away.

I called off 'till Friday.


---
by reddit user SmartAlekhine via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Intruder

This is the first time I've ever written this down and even though it was over 6 years ago, it has changed my personality forever.

This isn't a made up story, it genuinely happened and was actually featured in my local paper but i don't like the idea of people knowing who i am or finding me, so i wont link it.

I'll try keep this as short as i can while giving most of the details. A little background for context first of all, I'm a female and was 23 at the time of the incident. I was living in the house my parents left me after they died, my dad died when i was 5 from a stomach ulcer and my mum died of womb cancer when i was 22. I'm an only child with no grandparents or other family and so as you can imagine it was pretty devastating to lose my mother and i wasn't ready to sell her home (my childhood home) yet, so i was living there alone at the time.

The way the house was situated was pretty perfect of any criminal behavior i guess because although it wasn't isolated (neighbours a stone throw away on both sides) it was surrounded by very tall tree's at the front and backed onto a forest.

So anyway on with what happened- The first odd thing (that didn't seem odd at the time) was that someone was ringing the doorbell a lot very early in the morning that day, at first i ignored it because i was still grieving and depressed so didn't really care about the outside world at that time. Anyway the person seemed to leave after 5 or 6 rings and i fell back to sleep.

Cut to the afternoon, the door bell rings again and this time i cant ignore it because the man outside could see me through the blurry glass door in my hallway. So, i answer and this homeless looking man with a huge backpack on the ground starts asking me about my home. He obviously wasn't part of any company so thinking he's an oddball trying to see how easy it would be to rob my house, i politely say I'm not interested and close the door. He stands there for ages but i see him eventually leave and i brush it off.

Twenty minuets later he's back. Thank god i locked my door because i see him walk straight up to the door and start trying to open it. I shout through the glass at him and he looks shocked and says he knew my mother...I just ignore him and call the police straight away after checking all the doors and windows are locked. While I'm still on the phone i hear him using what sounds like tools and getting scared he's about to break through the door, i stand by my back door ready to run.

About 30 seconds later i see my front door shudder and slightly open, i panic, drop the home phone (smart i know..) and run as fast as i can down my garden into the woods, onto the path and run to a neighbouring street. I don't see him anywhere so i assume he's robbing my home and that's all he wanted, slightly relieved, i knock on a strangers door at random and ask them to call the police again.

The police arrive to meet me in the living room of this stranger what seems like hours later but was probably only forty minuets. I go to the police station and find out exactly what happened was a lot creepier than i had imagined.

When the police got to my home, the man was gone but he left a host of finger prints and evidence and because he was know to the police, he was picked up the next day hiding in a family camp site. He wasn't too bright obviously and also had a long list of mental health problems (everything from schizophrenic to manic depressive). He used a long screw like tool to break my door lock (by hammering it through) and once inside he left huge carving knife marks all along the hallway, as-well as muddy hand prints and creepy carved out words on all 4 of the bedroom doors (which were almost all spelled incorrectly) like the word "bitch" as-well as the phrase "gut you".

It might not sound like much, but i can't explain just how scary it is to see slice marks meters long covering your hallway. He also left a large knife stabbed into one of my bedroom doors, (finger prints and all). He didn't steal anything as far as I'm aware but he had actually left a note for me that morning when i hadn't answered my door, although i never saw it because it was under a plant pot. His spelling was atrocious so it was hard to even fully understand what the note said but he proved he knew my full name, age and that i lived alone.

Frustratingly i wish i could say he went to prison for a long time but in the end i think he only got around 3 years even though he was wanted for other petty crimes and a more serious case of rape. I've never seen him again and since sold my old family home but i still can't bring myself to answer the door to strangers to this day.
  
---by reddit user Rachel-L via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: Creeping

Hey guys. I've been reading this subreddit for a while, and I finally got my nerve up to post one of my many creepy experiences with public transit. This is basically a partial manifesto of why I hate to take the bus.

So, I am a girl, and I've always been tall for my age - by the end of middle school I was almost 5'9". I'm not hideous; I'd say I'm reasonably good looking, but at 14 I definitely had a kind of unnatractive KID look to my face and overall body shape, and I was not overly curvy, although I was somewhat fat. But because of my height, people often mistook me for a youngish looking college student, I guess because they think fourteen year olds can't be tall. At the time, I normally dressed in very baggy, worn out tee shirts, and men's cargo shorts that came down to my knees. Not exactly jailbait, here.

The other thing to bear in mind for this story is that I am autistic. I am not "low functioning" - I can talk, although I have trouble with language, and I could make my way to and from my high school on the public bus without getting lost. But I really have trouble reading people's demeanor and tone, and I also really have trouble distinguishing whether things are appropriate or not. I am also generally very quiet, and do not make eye contact very much. I am also really not a quick thinker in social situations. According to my sister, she thinks that because I look at the ground so much, it's like a magnet telling weird people that I'm an easy target.

So, on to my story. In my freshman year of high school, I took a rather long bus ride in the city bus to get to and from school, because my school was too cheap-ass to have a school bus, and I "wasn't disabled enough" for them to pick me up individually. Well, as I rode the bus, I noticed that there was an oddly dressed old man who always got on the stop after me, and got off the stop before I did. Even my fashion challenged autistic brain could tell it was odd. He was at least 65, and he wore button up short-sleeve shirts, and pressed shorts with suspenders, and he had a bright red lunch-cooler that he always had with him. Whatever, I didn't care.



One day though, the guy sat down next to me, even though there were plenty of other seats. That wasn't that weird, it was a two person bench. I prefer more space, but there weren't any completely open benches, so he just happened to pick mine, right? WRONG. EVERY DAY after that, the guy would sit next to me. It clearly wasn't an accident. But it still wasn't all that creepy. Then he started talking to me. THAT'S when it started getting creepy. I don't remember how he started out, but he kept asking me simple questions, like how old am I, am I in school, and stuff, even though I only gave one or two word, mumbled answers, and I didn't look at him. He always talked in a really odd, flat tone, which even I could pick up on the strageness of. He said I was pretty a lot, which made me kind of uncomfortable.

Then one day, he says, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Um. WHAT? At this point, even then I realized that the interaction had gone straight to creepy-land, but I thought "well maybe he's just going to say I'm cute and boys should date me, like my grandma does." But it still weirded me out. I am very bad at lying, so I just said, "I'm not allowed to date."

He kept asking me that every day, and after a couple days, added a new one. "Can I put my arm around you?"

I realize that I should have immediately said no, since I didn't want to let him at all, but at the time, I was too shy and freaked out by social interactions to stand up for myself. And I am also asexual, and was pretty innocent at the time, so I didn't really fully understand the creepy implications back then. So I mumbled something unintelligible, which apparently he took as "yes", because every day after that, he would put his arm across my shoulders.

It is impossible to describe how uncomfortable this man made me. I tried everything I could think of to try to get rid of him - I sat at the very back of the bus, but he still sat next to me. I even tried moving after he had sat down, and he FOLLOWED ME down the bus.

Thankfully, I was not the only kid from my high school who rode that bus line.

One day, I got on to the bus stop, and there was a boy from my geometry class there also. Now, this is not a wimpy little fourteen year old. This guy, Jose, was a BIG, BURLY seventeen year old football player with a shaved head, and he dressed like a stereotypical Mexican gangsta, to the point where people kind of expected him to whip out a knife if they got in a fight with him (and I realize this sounds racist, but it's TRUE, even his sister says it). We weren't super good friends, but we got along decently, just never talked much.

We got on the bus, and we don't talk to each other, he's just chilling with his buddies, but we both end up near the front of the bus. I think I was maybe a row or two down from him. Then creeper-man gets on, and of course sits next to me, and starts up his usual.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend? Can I put my arm around you?" I was sitting all hunched up tight, and it must have been really obvious that I wasn't comfortable, because Jose happened to glance back, and his eyes got all narrow, and he just scowled at the guy really angrily and said, REALLY loudly, "EXCUSE ME, IS THAT MAN BOTHERING YOU?"

The old man got this brilliantly shocked look on his face, and he didn't say a word, but his hand was off my shoulder in less than a second. Jose kept staring at the guy until the man booked it out of there the second the bus stopped, and then went back to chatting with his friends like nothing had happened. I am so, so grateful to him for scaring that weirdo away - the man didn't show up on the bus again for a week, and he never sat next to me again.

Later, I mentioned the experience to my mom while laughing about how funny it is to scare creepy people away on the bus. I only realized that the man was stalking me, and just how creepy he was, when she told me very seriously that I should have told the bus driver so they could throw him off, and to do so if anything similar ever happened again. Thankfully, it hasn't; I have plenty of other stories about the bus (for example, a pervert who was obsessed with my legs), but only the one who bothered me repeatedly, and went SO fucking far outside my comfort zone.

So yeah. Creepy child-molester who dresses like a 1950s schoolboy? Let's not meet.
  
---
by reddit user kaikadragon via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet

Let's Not Meet: The Handyman

Hello, I’m very, very new to Reddit and sorry if this is not written/formatted too well. I’m still trying to work things out smile emoticon And sorry that this is so long, I promise though that the last paragraphs are scary as hell.

As a little background for this story I’m seventeen, female and Australian. I’m often the only one home in the afternoons as my father works away a lot and my mother works until late a night. Luckily I have my lovely dog keeping me company. We rent our house and it is very old and it shows.

When we first moved in my parents made a complaint to the realtors that the kitchen was falling apart and they said that they would send someone over. A month later it was about 2:00pm and there was a knock on the door and a man told me that he was here to take a look at the kitchen and that he had tried to call both my parents but neither had answered. He looked to be in his 40’s and seemed to have an Italian accent but spoke English very well so I understood him fine. I unlocked the screen and allowed him in while trying to cling to the dog’s collar as she was losing her shit.

The handyman came in and told me his name, which I’ve since forgotten. He then asked for mine and I told him, he asked what I was doing home so early and I explained that sometimes my classes at school finished earlier than most and so I was able to be at home. Something about him made my hair stand on end but I ignored it blaming it on just being tired and paranoid. He went and fossicked around the kitchen measuring and doing the standard stuff and then left.

When my parents came home I told them about him and they said that neither of their phones had missed calls. We all shrugged it off and decided that maybe he had the wrong numbers or something but I did tell my mum that he creeped me out and she told me to be careful around him if they weren’t home.

A couple months later more stuff broke and my parents again told the real estate. The handy man came again twice when I was alone and he had the same story of my parents not answering the phone and I let him in since I had my dog and I wanted to get the stuff fixed. He still made my skin crawl so I tended to go into my room with the dog and call my best friend and talk to her while he worked.

He was scared of the dog and on the 3rd time he came to the house mustn’t have realised that she was in my room with me and tried to force the door open. The doors in this house are original and so have strange locks that even I can force open if I want to so he easily got it after about a minute. My dog threw herself off my bed and at him and I just grabbed her before she managed to bite.

I was in shock because she had never tried to really hurt someone and some guy just forced open my door. He told me that he had finished the work and wanted me to know so that’s why he opened it… because he just couldn’t knock, right? I told him that he should leave in a tone that was way calmer than I felt and off he went. I called my dad and he told me to never let him back in if I was on my own.

The fourth time he came my mum was home with me and he spoke to her in an accent that I believe had to be Turkish and you could barely understand a word. As my mum was home I stayed with her as she talked to him. A door in our house leading to the back garden often gets badly stuck but on that day we thought my dad had locked it on his way out as he sometimes does.

The handyman somehow got it open and we assumed that it must’ve been stuck after all. He made both my mother and I extremely uncomfortable as he stared at me the entire time. She then refused to answer the door and told me to never answer it again if it was the handyman. My dad would be dealing with all interactions from then on. That was the last time I saw him for about eight months, until two months ago.

My dog was at the groomer and as usual I was home alone. I was in the kitchen-starting diner as it was about 6:00pm and the sun was almost gone. There was a loud cry from the timber floors behind me that I ignored as they often made noises when my dog was walking about. I can honestly tell you that it was the most horrific moment of realisation for me when I remembered that my dog wasn’t here and that there was someone behind me.

I tightened my grip on the massive knife that I’d been using to cut up some onion and whipped around. Handyman was there with the sickest smile on his face and a hammer in his hand. I yelled at him to get out before I called the cops and held up the knife. I was shaking. He stepped forward.

I went to run past him but he grabbed me by the hair and in a struggle I sliced his face open and kneed him where it really hurts and while he was in shock and or agony, I ran into my bedroom, which is right next door to the kitchen, and slammed the door shut, locked it, grabbed my phone and forced the windows behind my bed open and jumped onto the rotting roof of the deck which was attached to the outside wall directly below my window.

The handyman was bashing on the door and made it in just as I jumped down onto the concrete and took off running across the street to a neighbouring house. I called 000 crying and telling the operator what happened and that I needed the police. I banged on the neighbour’s door begging to be let in but no-one was home so ran to another house with the operator still on the phone asking for details. This neighbour was home but before she could even open the door I hear police sirens hurtling down the street and ran to the officers the second they stepped out of the car.

A report was made, my parents were called, the media turned up, the knife was taken from me for DNA evidence, and the house was searched for him, any evidence and how he had got in. I was taken to hospital for a sprained ankle, whip lash from him yanking on my hair and lots of cuts and bruises. The police found no evidence of how he had broken in so it was assumed that he had acquired a key at some point and neither his DNA nor fingerprints were on record.

 When the police contacted the real estate agent they provided his name and phone number and claimed that he had a Swedish accent. The name was not true and no records were found and the number was disconnected and untraceable. They had found him on a site where he had advertised himself as a cheap handyman who could fix any and all problems but the ad has since been removed. The police only had his description to work with and as such he hasn’t been found.

It’s terrifying to think about what he would have done to me if I hadn’t fought back or if my window hadn’t opened, I keep thinking about all of the what if’s that could have changed my life so much or even ended it.

So creepy Swedish/Turkish/Italian Handyman, let’s not meet ever again and I hope that the next girl you go after hurts you way more than I did.


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via: reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet