"I had a mental breakdown actually, so it was hardly talking.
I was 15 years old at the time and I had just lost my crappy job at a local grocery store and I was walking home and I was still a bit on edge because I had to tell my parents that I got fired.
Basically, the street I was walking down connects to a side street full of less than nice people (it was super sketchy), and as I walk by a kid (who I found out later was a freshman at my school, which was a stupid move on his part) walks in front of me and pulls a pretty big knife out of his hoodie pouch and does the typical, 'Give me your money or I will stab you routine.'
I just remember this mixture of anger and sadness take over and I just started screaming.
Then I pulled out my wallet and flung it at him, he opened it up and found an astonishing $0 in it, dropped it, and then hauled out. I just picked up my wallet and cried the rest of my way home.
I called the cops when I got home and they eventually found the kid after he robbed an old guy who was jogging."
"I had just closed down and locked the office. It was around 9 p.m. and almost everything is closed - almost meaning there is a bar open down the way.
I park in front of that bar on purpose every morning, because it's always open and pretty busy. I'm walking down the empty street and start rounding the corner where the bar is when someone calls me from behind.
Creepy Guy: 'Excuse me, miss? I'm sorry to bother you but I haven't eaten all day and I'm starving.'
Me: (still trying to round the corner) 'If you're hungry there's a bar down the way, I can buy you something there.'
Creepy Guy: 'Nah, that bar is expensive, I'd feel bad. There's a fast food place on the other side of this street though, super cheap. Really close...'
Me: (rounded corner and getting into view of the bar) 'I don't care about the price of the food (I knew for a fact the other side of the street is a dead end alley). If you're hungry I'll feed you, but we go where I say.'
Creepy Guy then grabbed my arm trying to force me away from the view of the bar and towards the alley. I screamed to let me go and used all my strength to stomp on his foot and push me away from him to get to the front of the bar. I screamed: 'Let go of me, I don't know this man!' And a group of bikers stood up from their outdoor table and the creep bolted. I don't know what he had planned for me, but I knew he wasn't planning on me making it."
"Not me but my dad. He was about 25 years old at the time, probably 35 years ago now.
He lived in a bad neighborhood and after getting a pack of smokes from a 7/11, he was sitting in his car for a second when a young guy came up to his window with a gun.
My dad told me the robber said: 'Give me all your money or I'll kill you right here, right now!'
He said: 'Look, I have $30. And frankly, that freaking money is mine. You're going to have to kill me for it. Is it worth the blood of a human and most likely life in prison for $30?'
He said the guy had this type of 'well whatever' attitude about it, gave him a 'goodbye' tap on his car like he just came up to say hello, and walked away. He said the guy was really casual about it. Oddly so. He didn't sleep well for a few months after that experience."
"I had just gotten off my apartment security job at a sketchy complex. As I walked to my car, a dealer was standing in front of it. He saw me and pulled a firearm out of his waistband and put it to my head. I looked at him and looked at the people around him. He was 10 feet from a pool full of parents and kids and everyone was watching.
I looked him in the eyes and said, 'Do it if you want, I'm just a guard and I'm off duty. I don't care what you're doing here, this is just overtime for me. But look around. Here are witnesses and someone will talk.' I opened my car door and got in, he put his gun back in his waistband, got on his bicycle and left.
I drove as fast as I could home and changed my boxers."
"Years ago I was at a local pub that I frequented because my buddy half-owned the bar. This night there was a wedding party going on and the usual guests.
Now I have no idea what started it, but someone got shot outside the bar. A waitress runs in and asks me to go outside and see if I can give first aid. I say no problem and hurry outside to see a group of people standing over a young man. They are screaming he has been shot and acting typically hysterical.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man pacing in the parking lot. I walk towards him and he points a gun directly at my face. I tell him that I'm a medic and was just there to help and ask if he is ok. He screams: 'I don't know you,' and continues to act excited and pointing the gun at me. I try to reassure him that I'm only there to help and hold my hands up in the surrender position. This goes on for around a minute, and as I see the local police coming into the parking lot. I dive for cover as his back is facing the oncoming police. The jump scares the guy, so he shoots. The police scream at him to drop the weapon but he aims at them and the police shoot him in the shoulder and the neck.
After around another minute, I ask the officer with the shotgun on me if I can administer first aid to the guy, as he is choking on his blood. They give me the green light and I save the guy by clamping an artery by jamming a finger in his neck and pinching it off.
After a long state police interview, swabs of the blood from my hands, and being deposed by multiple lawyers, I find out that some off-duty police officer from the neighboring state came here to drink. He got into a fight with the wedding party and shot a guy in the spine and the shooter hid. The guy with the gun pointing towards me was a terrified rookie cop friend.
So yeah, it's one heck of a story I get to tell family and friends. I save a guy who tried to shoot me."
"I am a motorcycle rider.
Just over a year ago I purchased my Sena 20S and at the time, it met all my expectations. It had great sound quality for music, clear calls, and contact with my fellow riders. Little did I know that one day. it would save my life.
At around 9:30 p.m. on a cold February night, I came home from a ride. I got off my bike in the driveway where I was met by a man holding a gun who had broken into my home. He demanded I enter the house and as I approached the door, I threw my cell phone onto the ground.
As I crossed the threshold I was forced to the ground and my hands and feet were bound with a phone cord. The intruder resumed his vicious ransacking of my house while I lay there, in my helmet, wondering what was going to happen to me when he was done.
Sometime later my roommate pulled up and parked his car in the garage. The intruder ran out the front door to confront him. I heard a scuffle outside for a few minutes after which my roommate was forced into the house, bloodied, beaten and then bound in a separate room from myself.
The destruction of the house continued once again. He discovered the safe, pistol, and rifle cases; violently demanding the keys and combinations while kicking my roommate. He began speaking irrationally about how he was looking for stuff, how someone sent him to our house months earlier and he had been watching the house for a couple days. He was going to hold us for about two days while he cleaned up his fingerprints and burned parts of the house to get rid of any DNA. He would then drive us to the middle of nowhere and leave us for dead.
While he was spending time in the back room, attempting the break into the safe, I was able to free one of my hands and turn on my Sena. The moment the Sena said 'phone connected' I had a small glimmer of hope. The noise of the intruder breaking into the safe granted me an opportunity to access the voice command 'speed dial' system on the Sena. Whispering quietly, I didn't necessarily care who it ended up calling, I just prayed for anyone to answer.
My father, who is three hours ahead in the Eastern time zone, answered and I repeatedly whispered '9-1-1, 9-1-1, 9-1-1' he eventually replied back to me '9-1-1?' confirming he knew there was a problem. I then started repeatedly whispering my address, at which point the intruder came around the corner and yelled at me: 'What's that noise!?' I told him: 'It's just the radio playing in the helmet and I can't turn it off.' He proceeded to take a hammer to the side of my helmet while it was still on my head, destroying the Sena. He grabbed the remains and threw them in the toilet. He then started a fire in the fireplace to burn random items from around the house including his own shoes, which he replaced with the shoes directly off my feet.
My father eventually tried calling back, but when my cell phone rang, the intruder smashed it with the hammer and threw it in the fire as well.
The police finally arrived and noticed the blood on the ground from the scuffle and called for backup. The intruder became nervous, he unbound me and instructed me to answer the door, and send the cops away. I agreed, stood up and approached the front door. The police were shouting, 'Local Police Department. Open the door!' over and over again, and my roommate shouted back from the other room: 'We are in here,' repeatedly. The intruder ran to the other room to silence my roommate.
I reached out and opened the door to five or six officers with weapons drawn. I ran out into the front yard yelling, 'Hostage!' with my hands up, hoping no one would shoot. As I was about to be restrained, behind me, the intruder slammed the door. The police quickly withdrew back to the street. I was escorted by an officer as fast as possible to the street barely able to keep my footing as we moved. I was dragged through the front lawn and placed in the back of the squad car. I updated them on the situation inside the house and how to distinguish between my roommate and the intruder.
The local SWAT team was called in to secure the house. After another two hours or so, my roommate was finally able to escape his bindings and make his way out of the house, beat up but safe. The intruder ended up escaping out the back door of the house somewhere in that two-hour window of time.
The entire ordeal lasted around six hours. The suspect was found in jail on unrelated charges and was linked to the case with evidence found at my house.
After a year of jacking around in the court system with an attempt at getting off on mental disorder, the state psych hospital saying he is fit to stand trial. He was sentenced to more than 26 years in prison."
"I was walking home late at night across town to pick up some medicine for my girlfriend (I don't drive) and was walking down the main highway. I had music blasting in my ears and was completely zoned out for the entire walk until I saw a guy on a BMX bike wearing a backpack. He was literally on the opposite side of the highway and coming right towards me. He stopped his bike about five feet from me, unzipped his backpack, and reached in while saying: 'I'm going to freaking kill you!'
I started to pull what looked like a paint can with a handle until I put my hands up and said: 'Dude, are you serious? Are you seriously going to shoot me? For what? I haven't got any money.'
At which point, his eyes went wide and stuffed the weird metal thing into his bag and got out his phone. He said to me: 'Oh, dang man. I'm sorry! I thought you were this guy in a rival gang that beat up one of my buddies! Here let me show you on my phone.'
Then he showed me what the rest of the metal thing was. It was a homemade gun that looked like it was made of pipes and was in the shape of a submachine gun. I have no idea if it worked, or why he was going through the effort of unlocking his phone, scrolling through his entire gallery, just to show me the thing he almost used to kill me.
Then he told me to have a nice night and to please not call the cops on him for almost killing me before riding off. It was a weird night."
"I was living in some apartments directly across the street from the new Dallas Cowboys' stadium in Arlington. Not the worst area of town, but definitely not the best. This apartment complex is basically at the back of a Walmart parking lot.
Due to the proximity of the apartments to the Walmart and how busy it usually was during the day, I typically did my grocery shopping late at night. Also, I was in college so I would usually get inebriated before doing so. Despite how close it was, I always drove because I buy in bulk so I can get super lazy when the opportunity presents.
After one late night run, I get back and start unloading. It's 2 a.m. at this point, so after dropping my first load inside I was just overcome with a weird feeling that I should leave my wallet and cell phone inside. I go to get the next load and see the guy who lives above me pull into the lot. I notice he passed the last available spot and think to myself, 'Ah sucks for him, he's going to have to drive around and come back to that first spot he passed.' I take that load in and go back to my car for number three. I grab several bags from my backseat and pull my head up to see the barrel of a pistol, which is about four inches from my face, right between my eyes.
'Gimme yo wallet if you don't wanna die tonight!'
'Uh. I don't have it on me man'
'Gimme yo phone then...'
'I don't have that either'
At this point, I have two bags of groceries on each arm and my keys in my pocket. Avoiding eye contact the whole time, I consider offering him my keys but made the internal decision of screw that - if he asks for them, I will give them up, but I'm not going to volunteer them. I say: 'Uh. You can have these groceries?'
He says: 'Are you the guy from the PT Cruiser?' I'm literally standing next to my Chevy Cavalier, as my neighbor from above, in his PT Cruiser turns the corner from missing the spots earlier and parks. I hated doing this, but I hated having a gun in my face more so I said: 'Nah bro,' and pointed at my neighbor parking and said: 'That's a PT Cruiser.' The gunman and his partner (also strapped) sprint over to my neighbor's car right as he opens his front door. The other one puts a gun in his face and yells 'Gimme yo wallet.' I see some fumbling before my neighbor yelled a four-digit number (clearly his PIN). One of the burglars asked the other if they should steal his car but they decided against it.
As they drove off, my neighbor walked past me with the look of death on his face; didn't say a word or acknowledge my presence and went straight up to his place.
I had always wondered what I would think about if I was staring death in the face, and at least at that moment of my life, it was total frustration and anger. I was so mad that I had wasted all that time studying and working for a future that I might not get to have. At that moment, I wished I had opened a bunch of credit cards over the last year and just went on a ton of trips, blowing money I didn't have that I'd never had to pay back. Now that I have continued to live, I'm glad I went to college and did not follow my fear-of-death plan."
"I almost got stabbed by these two kids in a small town in the Dominican Republic. They saw me walking around at night and came to my hotel with knives. I was out on the balcony in front of my room and they came up to me, not saying a word but brandishing large enough knives. So I put my hands up and real cool-like, reached in my pocket and handed them like $200 in local currency and they ran off.
The kicker is: my wife was in an unlocked room right there, with maybe $2,500 and all of our stuff. And I made enough noise about it talking calmly, but loudly enough, that I heard the door lock (thank goodness). My first thought was: okay they want money. My second was: what if they get in that room with my wife? That second question still messes with me.
Anyways, so this town is small and I walked over to the police station and explained what happened and the cops are like, 'Oh yeah. We probably know who it is. Come back at 9 a.m. tomorrow and we'll have you identify them.'
So I came back the next morning and they had both of them in custody. Never did get my money back, but whatever."
"It was my sister's 21st birthday and the whole family and a couple of my sister's friends decide to all go out to bar.
The night starts off fine - everyone is dancing and drinking then this group of 15 people comes in. As soon as they walk in, they start bumping into people, glaring at girls, and challenging their guys to do something. I tell my girl we gotta watch out for these jerks, so we stay clear of them until the end of the night.
My girl and I kept to ourselves, just watching everyone when we see these jerks surrounding my sister's friend. I go and pull him away from the situation and ask what happened. He just complimented the guys on their hats because we were all San Francisco 49'ers fans. So those guys leave and we head out about 20 minutes later. I grab my sister and her two friends and we head to the car. As we're walking to the car, I see three guys from that jerk group walk towards my car from the other side of the parking lot. I tell everyone to get into the car and my girl is forcing my sister and her friends inside while I approach these guys.
Me: 'What's good?'
Them: 'What's up homie, you guys got a problem?
Me: 'Nah, whatever happened inside, just leave it inside. It's my sister's birthday and we're not trying to have any drama go down tonight. Are we good?'
I should have known something was about to go down; one of them was holding his shirt over his face and the other had his hat down real low and was holding his waist. But the main guy looks at them and said: 'Yeah, we're good,' and I shake his hand and then the other guy's hand but then this guy with his hat real low won't shake my hand and won't take his hand off his waist, so I say: 'Your boy says we're cool, we don't want any problems.'
At this moment my uncle and my best friend come around the corner and start yelling: 'Yo, Hey' and that's when it happened. All three guys pulled out their guns started shooting in the air and then shot towards my uncle and best friend. Everyone starts screaming but I didn't flinch, it was really weird. I just looked around and one of the guys says: 'What about him?' and looks right at me and just says: 'Screw it,' and they run back to their cars.
I walk to my car and drive down to where my uncle and friend were standing, stop the car, and just hear my mom and aunt screaming that my uncle got shot. The cops came and we spent the next two hours talking to the cops about what happened and what they looked like. I found out why they approached us later that night.
Apparently, while my sister, uncles, and friends were outside smoking, those guys came outside to smoke. While they were outside, one of the jerks said some racist things to our friends and they ended up pushing and shoving, and my sister decked one of them. They found the guys later and we testified against them. Well, now they're each serving 15 to 20 years in prison. My uncle was really lucky they shot him in the back and they missed all his organs. I found out later that before they left the bar, they were in the bathroom using illegal substances and that they were planning on just walking up to the car and unloading."
"I used to attend a college in northern Florida and every winter break, I'd make the 12-hour drive back to Maryland to get some time in with the family.
Well one year, while I was on my way back down to school, I stopped for gas in North Carolina at this gas station on Interstate 95. As I am filling my tank, two cars pull up. One pulls up to the pump right next to me and the other two pulls up to the other side of the pump I'm using. Both cars were older Cadillacs and the gentleman that hopped out, well frankly, looked like gangbangers. They had tattoos everywhere, no shirts, the whole deal. The car to the left of me pops his hood and stands next to his car, neither one has even looked at the gas pumps so far. I know a bit about cars and this little voice in my head told me to ask the guys if they needed any help, so I took the few steps over and asked if everything was alright with the car.
The guy gave me this weird look like he couldn't tell if I was serious, and said the car sounded off. I tried to get him to be more specific but he sounded like he was making up answers on the spot, eventually, he said, 'It's kinda squeaky.' I told him that a squealing noise is usually a bad belt, and asked if he wanted me to have a look. He just kept giving me the weirdest, most incredulous look, like, 'What the heck is this little boy doing,' but eventually said, 'Nah, I think it's fine.'
He shut the hood and waved a hand at the driver of the other car, who hops in his own vehicle, and both pull out. Neither one got gas or went into the little gas station store.
After they pulled out and I finished filling up my tank, I went to the store to grab my change (I overpaid for my fill up by a bit). When I get up to the counter, the attendant's face was white, like ghost white. Apparently, there had already been two car-jackings at the station, one where the victim was stabbed, and the attendant had already called the police. I stuck around and gave descriptions, but since nothing actually happened in my case, I just went on my way afterward.
There's no way I could've replaced my car on a student budget, and it would've made my life exponentially more difficult (I was already a subpar student) and I could easily have ended up not finishing my degree and as a consequence not having the life I currently enjoy."
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