• Post the scariest thing that happened to you
    81 replies, posted
When I was in my early twenties, I lived in a rural part of Connecticut and would routinely go out hunting for small game in the woods that surrounded our house. I usually wouldn't venture too far on these hunts but I would occasionally hunt alone, which doesn't seem too smart in retrospect. Well, I was out on a hunt one day, by myself, and I wasn't catching anything so I decided to stay out longer. As I moved through the woods, and further away from my land, I was starting to get more game. Before I knew it, the sun started to set and I was getting pretty tired from walking so much. The thing was that I was in a part of the woods that I didn't recognize. I had grown up in this area of CT, so I felt very comfortable traversing it. However, I must have been pretty far from my house because this area was completely unfamiliar to me. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I was lost. It was getting very dark at this time, and having lost a lot of my bearings, I decided to head in one direction until I was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage around me (which isn't too fun to walk through at dusk). After what seemed like hours, I came across a cabin in a small clearing. Surprisingly to me now, this hadn't unsettled me at all. The rural community we lived in wasn't exactly close-knit, but I knew I was safe. Realizing how dark it had grown, I decided to see if I could stay there for the night, until it was light enough in the morning to actually navigate back to my house under my full strength. As I approached it, I found the door was already open. It was a very old cabin, that looked as if it might have even been vacant or abandoned. Nobody was inside. Nevertheless, I had to rest after walking for what seemed like 6 or 7 hours. I walked in and flopped myself down on the single bed, deciding to explain myself to the owner in the morning. As I looked around, I was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at me, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, I grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, I turned to face the wall, and exhausted, I fell into a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, I turned blinking in unexpected sunlight, trying to remember where the hell I was. Looking up, I discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows....
[QUOTE=Unexpect;16653512]When I was in my early twenties, I lived in a rural part of Connecticut and would routinely go out hunting for small game in the woods that surrounded our house. I usually wouldn't venture too far on these hunts but I would occasionally hunt alone, which doesn't seem too smart in retrospect. Well, I was out on a hunt one day, by myself, and I wasn't catching anything so I decided to stay out longer. As I moved through the woods, and further away from my land, I was starting to get more game. Before I knew it, the sun started to set and I was getting pretty tired from walking so much. The thing was that I was in a part of the woods that I didn't recognize. I had grown up in this area of CT, so I felt very comfortable traversing it. However, I must have been pretty far from my house because this area was completely unfamiliar to me. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I was lost. It was getting very dark at this time, and having lost a lot of my bearings, I decided to head in one direction until I was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage around me (which isn't too fun to walk through at dusk). After what seemed like hours, I came across a cabin in a small clearing. Surprisingly to me now, this hadn't unsettled me at all. The rural community we lived in wasn't exactly close-knit, but I knew I was safe. Realizing how dark it had grown, I decided to see if I could stay there for the night, until it was light enough in the morning to actually navigate back to my house under my full strength. As I approached it, I found the door was already open. It was a very old cabin, that looked as if it might have even been vacant or abandoned. Nobody was inside. Nevertheless, I had to rest after walking for what seemed like 6 or 7 hours. I walked in and flopped myself down on the single bed, deciding to explain myself to the owner in the morning. As I looked around, I was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at me, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, I grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, I turned to face the wall, and exhausted, I fell into a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, I turned blinking in unexpected sunlight, trying to remember where the hell I was. Looking up, I discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows....[/QUOTE] lol creepypasta
Did you ever see the owners of the cabin, Unexpect? [editline]fuck[/editline] Aw, you fucker.
[QUOTE=Unexpect;16653512]When I was in my early twenties, I lived in a rural part of Connecticut and would routinely go out hunting for small game in the woods that surrounded our house. I usually wouldn't venture too far on these hunts but I would occasionally hunt alone, which doesn't seem too smart in retrospect. Well, I was out on a hunt one day, by myself, and I wasn't catching anything so I decided to stay out longer. As I moved through the woods, and further away from my land, I was starting to get more game. Before I knew it, the sun started to set and I was getting pretty tired from walking so much. The thing was that I was in a part of the woods that I didn't recognize. I had grown up in this area of CT, so I felt very comfortable traversing it. However, I must have been pretty far from my house because this area was completely unfamiliar to me. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I was lost. It was getting very dark at this time, and having lost a lot of my bearings, I decided to head in one direction until I was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage around me (which isn't too fun to walk through at dusk). After what seemed like hours, I came across a cabin in a small clearing. Surprisingly to me now, this hadn't unsettled me at all. The rural community we lived in wasn't exactly close-knit, but I knew I was safe. Realizing how dark it had grown, I decided to see if I could stay there for the night, until it was light enough in the morning to actually navigate back to my house under my full strength. As I approached it, I found the door was already open. It was a very old cabin, that looked as if it might have even been vacant or abandoned. Nobody was inside. Nevertheless, I had to rest after walking for what seemed like 6 or 7 hours. I walked in and flopped myself down on the single bed, deciding to explain myself to the owner in the morning. As I looked around, I was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at me, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, I grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, I turned to face the wall, and exhausted, I fell into a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, I turned blinking in unexpected sunlight, trying to remember where the hell I was. Looking up, I discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows....[/QUOTE] Then who was portrait?
i was little and i thought my pillow was talking to me :tinfoil:
i was at a daycare center while my mom and dad were at work, standing at the fence next to the sandbox, you see, we were up on a hill overlooking a rather busy intersection next to a grocery store and a burgerking. Although at the time, i had not really understood what had happened, but as of late, i am quite aware of the horrifying people that exist in our world. a guy pulled out of the grocery store parking lot, and as he did, a dumptruck of some sort slammed into him, he car flipped, rolled, and burst into flames, but it didnt kill the guy, he sat there burning until he finally just..burned to death. the dump truck driver didnt stop, but just kept going down the road. i was 6 years old.
-snip-
[QUOTE=slippp22;16653800]lol creepypasta[/QUOTE] Ok yes, I admit it. But this one is true, I promise. I was in kindergarden, about 5 or 6 years old. Me and my friends were having a contest at school. To see who can hold their poo for the longest time. So I'm alergic to milk (Makes me have to go poop almost instantly after I drink it) I had a HUGE glass of milk that morning before school. So by the time I got there, I could barely hold it... I got to class, and we had a weird teacher that would make us do "The Chicken-Noodle Soup Dance" before we started school. (Some lame dance to a cheesy song to "Shake off some extra energy so we can focas"). While we we doing the dance, my poo was slipping, I almost pooped myself. But I held in there. I finally got through the dance (which and felt like 5 hours). So we were doing work and my chair was broken... So I had to sit on the floor. (Which made me feel like I had to go poo even more). Later on in the day, we had to do P.E, that day we were having a HUGE obstacle course..... It was like a freakin army bootcamp obstace course! Anyway, I was first to go... I started out running through the tires, then I had to crawl under this rope thing, and to get to the finishline, they said I had to jump on ONE leg to get there (Some stupid rule)... With every jump, I came closer and closer to pooping myself.... Finally, right before I got to the finishline..... I just COMPLETLY filled my pants with about 8 pounds of poop. Right when I pooped myself, I fell to the ground and scratched my elbow....
Getting hit by a car. I was lucky there was nothing coming the other way, I'd have been fucked.
For me, one experience that definitely rates highly is the first time I was woken up by one of those stress-induced nightmarish attacks. Some people refer to them as "Witch's Rides". It's when you feel like someone is on top of you literally strangling or pressing the life out of you. Sometimes you might hear a high-pitched noise with it like I did. You cannot move your arms or legs and cannot scream or talk. I almost felt like someone was lifting me off my bed or my sheets were being rolled off me several times. There's also that time when I was five, I punched my hand through the glass on a screen door. I had fallen down and lunged back up in anger and struck the door. Cut my wrist badly, I'm lucky I didn't lose more blood than I did. But the woman babysitting me was there and she put direct pressure on it using a washcloth.
[QUOTE=Unexpect;16653512]When I was in my early twenties, I lived in a rural part of Connecticut and would routinely go out hunting for small game in the woods that surrounded our house. I usually wouldn't venture too far on these hunts but I would occasionally hunt alone, which doesn't seem too smart in retrospect. Well, I was out on a hunt one day, by myself, and I wasn't catching anything so I decided to stay out longer. As I moved through the woods, and further away from my land, I was starting to get more game. Before I knew it, the sun started to set and I was getting pretty tired from walking so much. The thing was that I was in a part of the woods that I didn't recognize. I had grown up in this area of CT, so I felt very comfortable traversing it. However, I must have been pretty far from my house because this area was completely unfamiliar to me. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I was lost. It was getting very dark at this time, and having lost a lot of my bearings, I decided to head in one direction until I was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage around me (which isn't too fun to walk through at dusk). After what seemed like hours, I came across a cabin in a small clearing. Surprisingly to me now, this hadn't unsettled me at all. The rural community we lived in wasn't exactly close-knit, but I knew I was safe. Realizing how dark it had grown, I decided to see if I could stay there for the night, until it was light enough in the morning to actually navigate back to my house under my full strength. As I approached it, I found the door was already open. It was a very old cabin, that looked as if it might have even been vacant or abandoned. Nobody was inside. Nevertheless, I had to rest after walking for what seemed like 6 or 7 hours. I walked in and flopped myself down on the single bed, deciding to explain myself to the owner in the morning. As I looked around, I was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at me, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, I grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, I turned to face the wall, and exhausted, I fell into a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, I turned blinking in unexpected sunlight, trying to remember where the hell I was. Looking up, I discovered that the cabin had no portraits, only windows....[/QUOTE] Creepy pasta. Got it from ED or /x/. [highlight]KING OF THEYN PAGE 2[/highlight]
[QUOTE=Teal Moose;16654478]For me, one experience that definitely rates highly is the first time I was woken up by one of those stress-induced nightmarish attacks. Some people refer to them as "Witch's Rides". It's when you feel like someone is on top of you literally strangling or pressing the life out of you. Sometimes you might hear a high-pitched noise with it like I did. You cannot move your arms or legs and cannot scream or talk. I almost felt like someone was lifting me off my bed or my sheets were being rolled off me several times. There's also that time when I was five, I punched my hand through the glass on a screen door. I had fallen down and lunged back up in anger and struck the door. Cut my wrist badly, I'm lucky I didn't lose more blood than I did. But the woman babysitting me was there and she put direct pressure on it using a washcloth.[/QUOTE] Look up the phenomenon known as "[b]sleep paralysis[/b]". It's interesting.
[QUOTE=PivotDJ;16655494]Creepy pasta. Got it from ED or /x/. [highlight]KING OF THEYN PAGE 2[/highlight][/QUOTE] Hey give me some credit, if you didn't notice I changed it up a bit.
[QUOTE=Red_Eyes;16652963]Sounds like your stepdad is a really funny guy[/QUOTE] Actually he's a fucking arsehole, I don't even consider him a family member anymore.
I woke up and went to take a piss. Suddenly an Anon jumps out of the shawdows and says "BOO!" It was my sister with a V mask.
[QUOTE=.Cheezy.;16656061]Look up the phenomenon known as "[b]sleep paralysis[/b]". It's interesting.[/QUOTE] Ah, thanks. Now I recall, I thought I saw a thread here on Facepunch somewhere in GD about sleep paralysis. Now that you've mentioned it, I remember the name. But seriously, for those of you that have never experienced sleep paralysis, I hope you never do.
[QUOTE=Teal Moose;16658526]Ah, thanks. Now I recall, I thought I saw a thread here on Facepunch somewhere in GD about sleep paralysis. Now that you've mentioned it, I remember the name. But seriously, for those of you that have never experienced sleep paralysis, I hope you never do.[/QUOTE] I think I have, like if I've been so tired I'll have a day time nap and sometimes I can't roll over or wake up and it feels like I'm a rock or something, it's scary because I can say anything either so I'm lying there asleep but conscience thinking to myself oh fuck what if I'll be like this for hours, it's really freaky.
I was on a trip with my church doing construction for the underprivileged in the mountains of North Carolina. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and a lot of trash and debris had accumulated through that week, so a group volunteered to go dispose of the trash at the local dump. I volunteered to go. For the past 2 days, it had rained all day and all night with several inches each day, making traveling difficult. So we decided to take a truck with good tires to be extra careful. Along with me, their was a camp counselor named Nicole (19), Mrs. Woodruff (middle-aged), Frank (60) and Jamey (30) who owned the truck. We loaded the back up to the top with scrap metal and other construction trash. We arrive at the dump and they direct us to a special area that doesn't follow state laws necessarily and let us unload there since we are a church group; otherwise, we wouldn't be able to use the facility. Well, we proceed on to the site, which none of us had been to, and go down a large hill, coming to an open area where we see the dump site is located. As we are going down the hill at around 15 mph, I see that the area is made of red clay, the kind that you slip in, but is usually hard. We drive down the hill and come to this area with some momentum. As we continue to drive, we aren't slowing down. Then I realize that this "clay area" stops in front of us. Where does it go? Nowhere. Jamey, I am sure at this point, is pressing on the brakes, but nothing is happening. Everyone is silent. No one is even breathing. I am thinking, here we are packed in like sardines in this truck, and no one can do anything. We are sliding and sliding. I calmly say, "Jamey, hit the brakes." He responds, "I am." without taking his gaze off of the cliff in front of us. No one knows how high up we are. It could be 2 feet to the bottom. I am in the middle "bitch" seat mind you as we are sliding down this graded slick clay hill. Its not raining at this point, but the previous storm had made it slick as ice. Emergency brake. Nothing. Sliding, sliding. I'm thinking how far is it? 15 feet away? I strain to look above the hood, less than 10 feet. 7 feet. 6 feet. At this point, I am FREAKING OUT, but none of the ADULTS in the truck are doing ANYTHING!!! NOTHING! Then I realize that if we go off of this cliff, Im done. For me to even get out of the truck, the front doors have to open first, then the front people get out, then my door can open and the outside person can get out. Theres no way around it, Im the last one out. If this truck goes, I go. Its a curious thing to point out, that when you are facing death what goes through your mind, especially when this event is unexpected. My answer? Nothing. Nada. Just "I am going to die." That's it. There's no fanfare or "I'm gonna miss my family, etc." Its just "ok." I resigned my fate, at the age of 17, I was dying in the middle of nowhere on a church trip. 5 feet. the wheels are cocked to the side. We stop. No one moved. No one freaking moved for minutes. We all just sat there, afraid to tip the truck. Slowly, one by one, we get out of the truck. I could've stepped off the edge. I look down. 100 feet, probably more. It's tough to gauge a distance at that point and time in your life, near death. I look up and see an enormous dump truck SPINNING down the clay slope. He does an entire 360 and stops by muscling back up the hill. It helps when you have like 10 tires. After the ordeal, we unloaded, but no one spoke about it ever again. I never went back to dump, ever. Later, I found out why our truck wouldn't stop. Jamey had got a deal at the dealership for the truck, but only if 4 wheel drive wasn't included. Bastard.
I was walking down a dark corridor with a candle to my room at the end of the hall... my brother sneaked up behind me and blew my candle out... :frown:
I was 13, mabye even 12. I was walking home from a friends house when i saw....something. it was long and thin, it had arms like a octopus. whatever the hell it was, it peered through a tree and eyed me. it musta been 30 feet away. i starred at it for what seemed like forever. i started to run faster than i ever did before. i could feel my heart beating, i couldnt hear anything. i was most likley 8 blocks away from my house when i felt something sharp hit the back of the calf-area. i felt a wet stain. i looked back, the street was dimly lit and along with the fact i was shaking like hell, i tried to focus. i saw a tall "thing". it looked just as before, only, i could see its outline shifting through the trees. it wasnt going fast, mabye 5 mph, but i ran like fuck. I limped back to my home, not even looking back, i swung open the door (parents went out for the night, left the door open for me). i ran up the stairs, into my room and locked the door. i finally could hear myself breathing, i was practicly hyperventilating. i turned on the lights, reached for my phone and called my parents. i told them that i got "hurt" on the way home from "tims" (fake name, dont want to reveil friends info on internet). they said just to relax in bed. i sat down, turned on my tv and watched the colbert report. i reached for my ds. unfortunatly, it was out of power. i had to get the charger downstars. i opened the door and awkwardly went down the steps (i took some old blankets and made a "ghetto bandage" for my leg). i continued normally down the steps. suddenly, my heart dropped. the door was still open. i started sweating. i grabbed the nearest object. it was a old unplugged lamp that i was supposed to throw away before i left. i walked ever-so slowly into the family room. in the shadows i saw the figure for the first time. it was like jack from nitghmare before cristmas. it was all black and had 2 eyes like flames from matches. i screamed and hit it. the folowing sounds sounded like "majors wrath" from zelda. it screamed. i hit the fucker till those eyes became dark. i dropped the lamp and felt my knees buckle.i walked over to a chair and sat down. i leaned back and i was inally there to settle my throne as the prince of bel-air.
[QUOTE=booty_poppen_jenkins;16661045]I was 13, mabye even 12. I was walking home from a friends house when i saw....something. it was long and thin, it had arms like a octopus. whatever the hell it was, it peered through a tree and eyed me. it musta been 30 feet away. i starred at it for what seemed like forever. i started to run faster than i ever did before. i could feel my heart beating, i couldnt hear anything. i was most likley 8 blocks away from my house when i felt something sharp hit the back of the calf-area. i felt a wet stain. i looked back, the street was dimly lit and along with the fact i was shaking like hell, i tried to focus. i saw a tall "thing". it looked just as before, only, i could see its outline shifting through the trees. it wasnt going fast, mabye 5 mph, but i ran like fuck. I limped back to my home, not even looking back, i swung open the door (parents went out for the night, left the door open for me). i ran up the stairs, into my room and locked the door. i finally could hear myself breathing, i was practicly hyperventilating. i turned on the lights, reached for my phone and called my parents. i told them that i got "hurt" on the way home from "tims" (fake name, dont want to reveil friends info on internet). they said just to relax in bed. i sat down, turned on my tv and watched the colbert report. i reached for my ds. unfortunatly, it was out of power. i had to get the charger downstars. i opened the door and awkwardly went down the steps (i took some old blankets and made a "ghetto bandage" for my leg). i continued normally down the steps. suddenly, my heart dropped. the door was still open. i started sweating. i grabbed the nearest object. it was a old unplugged lamp that i was supposed to throw away before i left. i walked ever-so slowly into the family room. in the shadows i saw the figure for the first time. it was like jack from nitghmare before cristmas. it was all black and had 2 eyes like flames from matches. i screamed and hit it. the folowing sounds sounded like "majors wrath" from zelda. it screamed. i hit the fucker till those eyes became dark. i dropped the lamp and felt my knees buckle.i walked over to a chair and sat down. i leaned back and i was inally there to settle my throne as the prince of bel-air.[/QUOTE] It was the slender man, obviously. I really didn't see the bel-air incoming though, so nice one.
ITT: tl'dr stories.
[img]http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/30/l_d9cfcaa59753fb66f1c7cc25e0c14fea.jpg[/img] Rear ended by an 18 wheeler. If he had pushed me into that wall, it would have broken and I'd have fallen 300 feet into about 2 feet of water.
[QUOTE=emii;16463851]Getting caught masturbating by my hardcore baptist father at age 13.[/QUOTE] Dang, that sounds harsh man D: Anyways, mine would be . . . When I was younger I was misdiagnosed with Hotchkins lymphoma. My lymphnoids were swollen and bigger than a jumbo bouncy ball. Was scary shit because I dont like needles and I always had doctors sticking me with needles and taking my blood, I actually bit a nurse because she was a stupid a$$ bi@tch and didnt know how to draw blood.
[QUOTE=Apple Piepod;16662427][b]It was the slender man, obviously.[/b] I really didn't see the bel-air incoming though, so nice one.[/QUOTE] Instantly what I thought of. Great, it's after 2 AM, I'm ready to go to bed, and I can't get Slender man out of my head. Fuck, this might go down as my scariest experience. Also, I didn't see the Bel Air bit coming either.
[QUOTE=Teal Moose;16658526]Ah, thanks. Now I recall, I thought I saw a thread here on Facepunch somewhere in GD about sleep paralysis. Now that you've mentioned it, I remember the name. But seriously, for those of you that have never experienced sleep paralysis, I hope you never do.[/QUOTE] Haha I've never experienced it but I really wouldn't mind it! Well, I wouldn't mind it right now anyway. I'm really curious as to what it feels like. [QUOTE=jhendrix7000;16660359]I was on a trip with my church doing construction for the underprivileged in the mountains of North Carolina. It was a Wednesday afternoon, and a lot of trash and debris had accumulated through that week, so a group volunteered to go dispose of the trash at the local dump. I volunteered to go. For the past 2 days, it had rained all day and all night with several inches each day, making traveling difficult. So we decided to take a truck with good tires to be extra careful. Along with me, their was a camp counselor named Nicole (19), Mrs. Woodruff (middle-aged), Frank (60) and Jamey (30) who owned the truck. We loaded the back up to the top with scrap metal and other construction trash. We arrive at the dump and they direct us to a special area that doesn't follow state laws necessarily and let us unload there since we are a church group; otherwise, we wouldn't be able to use the facility. Well, we proceed on to the site, which none of us had been to, and go down a large hill, coming to an open area where we see the dump site is located. As we are going down the hill at around 15 mph, I see that the area is made of red clay, the kind that you slip in, but is usually hard. We drive down the hill and come to this area with some momentum. As we continue to drive, we aren't slowing down. Then I realize that this "clay area" stops in front of us. Where does it go? Nowhere. Jamey, I am sure at this point, is pressing on the brakes, but nothing is happening. Everyone is silent. No one is even breathing. I am thinking, here we are packed in like sardines in this truck, and no one can do anything. We are sliding and sliding. I calmly say, "Jamey, hit the brakes." He responds, "I am." without taking his gaze off of the cliff in front of us. No one knows how high up we are. It could be 2 feet to the bottom. I am in the middle "bitch" seat mind you as we are sliding down this graded slick clay hill. Its not raining at this point, but the previous storm had made it slick as ice. Emergency brake. Nothing. Sliding, sliding. I'm thinking how far is it? 15 feet away? I strain to look above the hood, less than 10 feet. 7 feet. 6 feet. At this point, I am FREAKING OUT, but none of the ADULTS in the truck are doing ANYTHING!!! NOTHING! Then I realize that if we go off of this cliff, Im done. For me to even get out of the truck, the front doors have to open first, then the front people get out, then my door can open and the outside person can get out. Theres no way around it, Im the last one out. If this truck goes, I go. Its a curious thing to point out, that when you are facing death what goes through your mind, especially when this event is unexpected. My answer? Nothing. Nada. Just "I am going to die." That's it. There's no fanfare or "I'm gonna miss my family, etc." Its just "ok." I resigned my fate, at the age of 17, I was dying in the middle of nowhere on a church trip. 5 feet. the wheels are cocked to the side. We stop. No one moved. No one freaking moved for minutes. We all just sat there, afraid to tip the truck. Slowly, one by one, we get out of the truck. I could've stepped off the edge. I look down. 100 feet, probably more. It's tough to gauge a distance at that point and time in your life, near death. I look up and see an enormous dump truck SPINNING down the clay slope. He does an entire 360 and stops by muscling back up the hill. It helps when you have like 10 tires. After the ordeal, we unloaded, but no one spoke about it ever again. I never went back to dump, ever. Later, I found out why our truck wouldn't stop. Jamey had got a deal at the dealership for the truck, but only if 4 wheel drive wasn't included. Bastard.[/QUOTE] Holy [b]shit[/b]. Your story had me on the edge of my seat, gripping the sides of it! I was like... "oh shit how the fuck's he going to get out of this?" And then imagining a big ass dump truck spinning down that slope after you just survived that... It sounded like it came straight out of an action movie!
Almost getting run over by a car going 80 km/h
[QUOTE=.Cheezy.;16664880]Haha I've never experienced it but I really wouldn't mind it! Well, I wouldn't mind it right now anyway. I'm really curious as to what it feels like. Holy [b]shit[/b]. Your story had me on the edge of my seat, gripping the sides of it! I was like... "oh shit how the fuck's he going to get out of this?" And then imagining a big ass dump truck spinning down that slope after you just survived that... It sounded like it came straight out of an action movie![/QUOTE] Yeah, it was scary, I had blocked that experience somehow from my memory and remembered due to this thread.
Was at a friend's Halo 3 tourney, and we all decided to go out to this big field at 3 in the morning and play Gestapo (kinda like hide and seek, only not) I was with a group of guys and we all went to the far end of the field and tried to hide behind some trees (they were trying to climb the trees unsuccessfully) they other guys left for a different place, but I stayed... alone... hiding behind this tree. I have a bit of a fear of the dark so I was just convincing myself that there really wasn't anything to be afraid of, and I calmed myself down just listening to the frogs croaking and looking up at the stars... ...but literally the [I]minute[/I] I convinced myself that there was nothing to be afraid of, that absolutely nothing is going to happen... I hear a fucking growl in the bushes about 20 feet from me. It was literally one of those horror movie moments, I just froze in place and slowly panned my eyes to the rustling in the bushes. I decided to defy all common sense and ran my ass out of there, toward the group of guys that I was originally with. We all run underneath a lamp post. I learn that they too heard a deep growl in the bushes, that's why they were under the lamp. The funny thing was, It didn't traumatize me that much. Sure I shat brix when I heard that growl, but in the end it felt more thrilling than terrifying. (The odds were that it was most likely a mountain lion, as my friend lives in Snoqualmie Washington, a town up in the mountains.)
When I was younger the house a couple doors down was actually a meth lab blew up.
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