What was the most fucked up thing that you ever bore witness to? I will share mine, maybe one of you can top it.

swallx

About 7 or 8 years ago. I was heading back toward Canton Ohio, from Alliance. as I came to a stop at a yellow light /turning red , 2 cars try to beat the light. At the same exact time a 15 year old girl and her boyfriend decide to cross the road. The boy made it, the girl didn't. She was drug up the road about 300 feet under the car, leaving a red smear. It blew her out of her shoes, they were just laying there in the middle of the intersection. I ran to the car, it was a Tanish Oldsmobile and she was still under it. The driver was sitting in the middle of the median in waste deep water staring at the ground. A guy in a biker jacket, another middle aged man and myself managed to roll the car over. (I had marks across my palms for months from the pressure). She was obviously very broken up and when we rolled her to do cpr her face had been ground off by the pavement. The biker guy used his jacket to cover her mangled legs and a woman gave me a baby blue blanket off her infant in a car seat to cover her head. I remember the blood soaking through the blanket. I don't remember talking to the police other than standing there. I don't remember diving home. I just cried for 2 days.

I am a ex hospital corpsman stationed with the marines and I have seen stab wounds. bullet wounds, Left overs from plane crashes.. None of that prepared me to see a child get killed in such a horrible way.

Ruleroftheblind

My mom was the third child of four. The other three siblings were all boys. By age, it went like so: Jeff, Jack, Kelly (my mom), Kyle. Just after I was born, the eldest, Jeff, OD'd on painkillers and died. When I was about 12, Jack, the second, was in the hospital because his liver failed because he drank so much. He died two days before christmas while a liver was on a helicopter on it's way to the hospital for him.

Now, all this time, the youngest, Kyle, was battling an addiction to heroin. He had been in and out of rehab centers constantly, and around the time I was 17 it looked as though he was finally on the right track. He was living in a halfway house and staying with our family on the weekends. I had recently gotten my first car, a '79 el camino. I wanted to put in a new radio for it and I knew my uncle Kyle was really good with electronics. So, on a saturday morning I was in our basement on the computer and I remember having noticed him walk past me towards the bathroom. It was too early for me to have taken much notice of it and I was severely envoloped in whatever I was doing on the computer. Around an hour later, my dad came into the basement asking if I'd seen my uncle. I didn't even remember him being down there so I just shrugged. My dad started looking around and when he went near the bathroom I heard him yell, "(My name)! Go tell your mom to call 911! Kyle's unconscious!" I did so, and came back down and ran to the bathroom.

The bathroom was small. Immediately across from the toilet was a shower that hadn't worked in a long time. In the shower was a bucket that collected the water that dripped form the faucet. When I looked in, my uncle Kyle was on his knees, limp, in front of the toilet with his head in the bucket of water. My dad told me to help him move Kyle so we could get him on his back and his face out of the water. As we did so, I noticed the syringe laying on the ground next to where he had been.

It was about this time my mom came downstairs and started screaming. Soon the ambulance got there and I had to drive my mom to the hospital behind the ambulance. After waiting and such, we were allowed into the room to see him. He was dead. He had OD'd, but that didn't kill him, just knocked him out, causing him to fall off the toilet. His neck had landed directly on the rim of the bucket... mostly crushing his windpipe while his nose and mouth were submerged in water. There was no way for him to survive. I had to stand there and watch as my mom stroked her dead brother's hair crying, "Baby brother, baby brother, why?" Over and over.

Recently, my grandfather, my mom's dad, died and my father and I ended up moving into his house. When I was in the basement, where my uncle kyle, had lived briefly before dying, I was cleaning up and the broom I was holding bumped a ceiling tile. 5 syringes fell onto me from the ceiling. It was one of the most devestating things in the world.

ProximaC

My friends and I were sitting in a truck-stop restaurant at about 2am having coffee and bullshitting about life when we heard a crash outside. We ran out to see a light pickup had rear ended the corner of a parked flat-bed trailer.

We ran over and saw that the truck had impacted the right rear corner of the flat-bed right about the middle of her hood and the truck wedged underneath. The corner of the truck was about a foot into the cab through the windshield.

There was very little damage to the drivers side, so we pulled the door open and saw the driver. She still had her waitress uniform on from a place a few miles away and was on her way home. She was drunk.

She also had a broken steering wheel impaling her chest and bones sticking out of her legs. Blood was everywhere.

One of my friends ran back into the restaurant to call EMS, and I stood there talking to her. She was amazingly lucid, and knew she was hurt badly and terrified. I learned that she had two kids at home with her mom and that she was 22 years old.

I talked to her for what seemed like hours, ended up holding her hand and asking her all about her kids to distract her. Right as the fire truck showed up, she closed her eyes.

They pushed us back of course, and cut her out of the truck and flew her off in a life flight chopper. I found out a few days later she was pronounced dead while in flight.

BebopandRocksteady

On a trip in 1999 I went to Romania, and visited some of the orphanages there. I was prepared for something awful, but not what I saw.

We got the the orphanage in the morning as it was opening. It was winter in Romania and you can imagine, it's very cold. The orphanages are poorly funded and maintained. When we walked in the orphanage is essentially a few rooms, with one giant room housing all the babies. All of the babies are in cribs, painted white. The walls are grey, and there's nothing on them but stains, there are no windows. The cribs all have stained mattresses in them, and most of the kids don't have blankets. Just babies in cribs with bare mattresses. Many of the babies aren't dressed in anything more than a diaper. They're all facing the same direction. Many of them are just silently rocking back and forth. All of them have terrifyingly large, wide eyes that seem to bulge out of their skulls, but this is only because the hunger has sunken their cheeks.

The morning nurse has to perform one of her duties: rounding up all the dead bodies of the babies that have frozen to death during the night. All the babies are watching her, rocking silently. She has an old sheet, and has gathered all of the corners together to make a 'sack' for the frozen baby corpses. She's dragging this sheet on the floor behind her as she walks between the rows and rows of cribs. As she's walking, one of the baby corpses slips out of the sheet and kind of 'thuds' on the floor.

I am so horrified, my eyes are welling up with tears and I'm just trying to breathe. (I was told before coming to the orphanage that I'm not allowed to touch any of the children.)

When the corpse of the frozen baby slips out onto the floor, one of the babies starts to laugh. The laughter spreads throughout the whole room, with all these skinny, pale, wide eyed, alien children just laughing at the frozen body of a child who lived in the crib next to them. It seemed to echo through the whole room. The nurse turned around and picked up the dead baby again and just tossed him back in the sheet, and continued on.

The sound of those babies laughing was the most haunting noise I've ever heard.

MarcellusWallace91

Getting hit by a drunk diver on a road in the country side. The driver of the car I was in, a good friend of mine, was killed on impact. Our car flew into the woods on the side of the road where a large branch impaled my lower abdomen, just on the upper edge of my hipbone. I sat for two hours with a branch in my stomach waiting for help to come.

The worst part wasn't the branch or the waiting. The worst part was sitting for two hours seeing my friends mangled body sitting lifeless, part of which was mashed up against the frame of the car.

EDIT: Clarification

afungi

On a very busy street in downtown Atlanta near Georgia State University, maybe a hundred people walking around, waiting for buses, going to work, etc. This guy in a huge mack dump truck double parks in the middle of the road and jumps out of the truck to apparently run into a building. Just as he gets to the building the dump truck starts rolling down the street. Everyone on the street starts yelling at the guy and he turns around, sees the truck rolling and runs back. As maybe a hundred people are watching, he runs to the truck, jumps up to grab the door, slips and falls on his face directly under the oncoming back wheel and... it ran over his head before running into some parked cars. Nobody screamed, nobody yelled, it happened too fast. There was no need to see if he was still alive because his head was... splattered flat. Everyone was in total shock, looking around at each other in chaotic confusion. A couple of women I was standing next to just burst out into tears. Some people ran away. It was the most fucked up thing that I have ever seen.

asharp45

Saw a guy burn to death in a car once. I was trying to get him out, but the cab of his truck was compacted so the window opening was only about 12 inches high. The truck was upside-down, and the gas started leaking into the cab and burning. I remember him saying "I can't die like this" multiple times.

Cops started showing up, so I ran up to the road to get their attention. They used 6 fire extinguishers trying to put the fire out. Didn't work.

netsloth

When I was 9, my brother, who was 5, was very sick. We were sitting on the couch watching TV with my mom, he was on her lap. He had leukemia, and he hadn't been given very long to live at that point.

I remember he started breathing funny, and I sat up, and my mom tried to lift him up a little, but it didn't help.

After a few minutes, it got worse, and he had a look on his face that made it clear that he was afraid and couldn't understand what was happening. He took a deeper breath, and then let it out. I was looking at him, willing him to keep breathing, but he didn't take any more breaths in.

My mom was hysterical, she left him on the couch, and went to call an ambulance. I sat with him, his eyes were still open, but he was gone. I can't forget how he looked. I must have sat there for a half hour until the ambulance showed up. Nobody ever came back for me, and my mom couldn't bear to come back in the room.

Makes me sad a lot of the time. Now I have boys of my own, and it makes it worse.

I have a lot of sympathy for how fucked up my mom ended up.

venir

About a year and a half ago I was on my way to work, driving through downtown with my radio turned up and the windows down about half way. I had just pulled up to a stop light and glanced in my rear view mirror to see a couple crossing the street pushing a baby carriage. They were about 20 feet in from the corner of an intersection crossing outside of a nearby crosswalk.

I watch as a green SUV turns the corner onto the street they are crossing and proceeds to drive right at them. As a sense of both shock and horror comes over me I see the car drive right into the man, who barely manages to push the carriage out of the way before he goes under the tires of this Ford Explorer. I can hear the womans screams to this day whenever I think about it. The car stops with him under the front tires and then proceeds to try and go again, stops and then goes twice more, the driver oblivious to the fact that they had a person under their car. The woman continued to scream as a man who was walking by runs up and starts beating on the window yelling at the driver to get them to stop. The guy ended up suffering some broken bones and bruises but survived with pretty minor injuries considering he had been run over.

Craziest shit I have ever witnessed.

haxromana

This pales in comparison to other stuff in this thread, but it's stuck with me.

I'm an EMT by training, so for a little while last year I worked with a private ambulance company. In some regions, private services respond to 911 calls, but where I live they do exclusively transports; basically, they shuffle old people from hospital to nursing home or vice versa. It's very necessary work, and it keeps the emergency services folks free to respond to emergencies.

Anyway, it was the last call on my first day; a relatively lucid man in his late eighties. He was very well accomplished...he was a clergyman, a college professor, an author, a historian and an attorney. He was also far and away the most conversational patient I saw at any point in my tenure there. After a pleasant ambulance ride, we arrive at the nursing home - excuse me, Nursing Care And Rehabilitation Center. In the foyer, a toothless woman in a wheelchair offers me a (thankfully unused) tongue depressor. I smile at her and steer my patient's stretcher down the dimly-lit hallway, dodging parked residents, until we arrive at his room.

This is, I believe, the exact point at which I mentally quit my job.

The room stank like shit, even more so than the rest of the facility. It was about two thirds the size of an urban apartment bedroom, and it was currently housing two other men, one of whom was moaning and screaming in mindless agony. I put on my biggest, brightest "Everything Is Okay" grin and got my patient set up in his corner of the room. I helped him arrange his blankets and stacked his books on his bedside table. Fetched him another pillow from the hallway, poured him a glass of water. I kept grinning like an idiot, while my patient looked paler and more horrified by the second. When my partner was finished with the charting and paperwork, I started saying goodbye to my patient. When I stood to leave, he grabbed me by the wrist, looked at me with pleading eyes, and said "please don't leave me here."

I sat back down on the edge of the bed and began to deliver what became my standard "it'll be fine, this cesspool isn't so bad" pep talk. You'll be out of here in no time at all. Just do what the doctor says and get healthy so you can go home. Your wife/husband/sister/brother/children will be here to visit in the morning. Did you see the library on the way in? Look at this menu...pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.

I'm not even slightly ashamed to say that I broke down crying in the back of the ambulance, and again when i got home and my mom asked me how my day went (and a little bit again just now when I typed all that out).

tl;dr - We treat our old people like absolute shit in this country and it makes me a sad panda.

bri1232001

My good friend Churro was a night patrolman for a little lobster fishing village in Mexico. His boat was hit by a big wave, capsized, his partner made it to shore at 5:30 in the morning when the rest of us were just getting to the lagoon to head out for a days work. Every able bodied man hopped in a boat and headed to sea to look for Churro, I got in my jeep and drove south, along a stretch of beach where every piece of flotsam from Hawaii to Japan seams to wash ashore, people still find old glass floats and ww2 stuff there.

A few miles south of town, I start seeing wreckage from the boat, a door, cushions, a jacket, then I see Churro, the seagulls were having at him, by the time I get to him, one of his eyes is punctured, his cheek has a hole, the tip of his nose is gone. I didnt know what to do, I wanted to go back to town to tell the other vigilancia that I had found him, but I knew the birds would keep eating him. I decided to get him in my Cherokee and take him back to town. No easy task, Churro only weighed about 175 at most, and Iam a very big strong guy, but his stiff yet floppy body was very unmanageable. I had to prop his shoulder up against the back bumper, climb in the Jeep, reach under his armpits and pull him up over me, roll him to the side. As we bumped along the beach home, yellow foamy goop leaked out his nose, and from the smell, other things were leaking out of other orifices.

I had to tear the carpet out the back of my Jeep, hose and scrub it all out. From then on, All the villagers always made the sign of the cross as I drove passed them, and nobody would ride in my car with me.

thegrinninglemur

In Prague, periodically the 'Baroque' Circus sets up it's big-top and caravans on the Letna plains. It's a meager arrangement of tents surrounded by trucks at one end and another big tent on the other. Apparently one of the attractions is a motorcycle-riding black bear which they've trained to drive a bike around the inside of the main ring in front of grinning adults and cheering children. No telling how many times a day, and how many days a year, this beleaguered animal is forced to perform the trick –riding around, and around, and around, and, well…you get the picture.

One day, recently, there was a fairly well known journalist in the audience who the ringmaster tried to convince to ride shotgun with the bear. Naturally the journalist was apprehensive about this. The bear probably was too, at least more than usual. However, after much pleading and cajoling from the circus-types and audience alike the journalist warily got on the back of the bike.

Maybe it was the ringmaster tweaking the moment for the benefit of the audience. Maybe it was the unfamiliar presence of the journalist; his smell or the sudden re-distribution of weight on the bike. Maybe it was the mood of the bear; underfed, overfed, or just fed up. Who can say what a bear is thinking at any given moment? Whatever it was, the bear revved the engine and made a bee-line out of the tent and roared across the Letna plain – the journalist clinging to the back of the bike experiencing various degrees of horror and shock.

I worked out what had happened after a few weeks. But what I saw, standing at a nearby tram stop, was a Black bear on a motorbike - with a howling passenger - in the middle-distance zipping across a field with a crowd of people screaming and in hot pursuit behind it.

Circa_Lucid

Mid-day when I was 19, my gf and I were coming out of a Blue Line L station on an overpass in Chicago and this black guy walks up to us asking us for some cloth or a towel. He's holding his neck, his shirt is covered in blood, and every word he says gargles under his hand. I see another man at the end of the bridge running away, carrying what looks like a machete. My gf takes off her sweater and gives it to him while I run into the station to tell the attendant to call an ambulance. I tell her through the bulletproof glass to call 911. She's only 30 feet from this guy bleeding to death, she clearly sees what's going on, looks at the phone behind her and says that it's for official use only. She also tells me that she knows that man and he's got AIDS and we should stay away from him. I turn my fist bloody punching at the glass, yelling at her to call the fucking cops; get on that damn phone and call your office to call the police; fucking do something!

After 2 minutes of nothing from her, I ran down to the other end of the bridge and through the ghetto projects of Chicago to get to a payphone and call 911.

The part that fucked with me was the woman's ability to look me cold in the eyes and say No to something as simple as calling 911. The look on her face and the solid delivery of her words made my stomach turn and, if there weren't a man dying that very moment, I wouldn't have given up trying to break through the glass to tear her out of her protective little bubble so I can make an emergency phone call.

My gal and I caught a taxi away from there once the ambulance arrived. I saw the story on the news that night. He died. They caught the guy with the machete.

circa7

When I was in 7th grade we went on a field trip that involved walking across the golden gate bridge. About half way across, a man jumped off the bridge and took his life (obviously) right in front of the class. I didn't see him jump, but saw him floating in the water. Apparently a few girls in my class had immediately prior just said hi to him and told him to have a nice day. They thought it was their fault and were really upset. Pretty sad.

Watching someone get hit by a car is one of the most fucked up things you can see. I drive a taxi. One night I was cruising down the street and I am stopped at a red light behind another vehicle. Right away I get the impression that the driver in front of me is not sober, mainly because the street we're on is a two lane street and his/her tire is about a foot and a half over the white line in the middle. The driver and his/her passenger appear to be distracted by something in between the seats so when the light turns green, neither of them notices. I give a little tap on my horn and the driver looks up, sees the green light and quickly takes off.

About a block and a half ahead, there is a marked crosswalk. Two people, a guy and a girl, are crossing the street. The car in front of me appears not to notice and continues to accelerate. The pedestrians see the car coming and start to run. The guy makes it. The girl does not. She is thrown into the air about 10 feet. I can still see it, her feet pointing straight up. It was horrible!

The car in front of me slows down for just a sec while the driver processes what had just happened. Then they take off. While my first impulse was to stop and see if the girl was okay, when I saw this I said "Oh you fucking bitch, you are NOT going to get away with this!" and took off after them. The cab I was driving that night was a ex-police interceptor. It still had the spotlight mounted on the side and still had all the power under the hood. I turned the spotlight on and aimed it at the car. He/she tried to get away but I managed to get close enough to read the plate and then turned back to see if the girl was alright. By the time I got back I had 911 on the phone and gave them the information.

The girl was sitting on the sidewalk with her friend. She was bleeding from a small wound on the side of her head and was crying and disoriented. Luckily, her injuries were minor and she was treated at the scene. As for the driver of the car, when they got home the police were waiting for them. The driver was charged with a DUI and a felony hit and run. I ended up testifying before the Grand Jury but I think the driver must have plead guilty because I never heard another thing about the case.

And that was one of the most fucked up things I've ever seen.

PushTheLittleDaisies

I posted a friend's but here is mine. It's not gory or violent, it was just a window into how fucked up things are in the brains of some people in this country.

I was touring with a choir and I was taken in for the night by a host family made up of a two middle-aged white VERY Christian people and a teenage Rwandan foster boy who had escaped the genocide. Over dinner, we were discussing some stories from his past. This is the conversation that followed:

Mom: Patrick and his family witnessed some terrible things during the war. Isn't that right Patrick?

Patrick: Well... yes.

Mom (a little too enthusiastically): Tell her about the time they attacked your school!

Patrick: Okay... When I was ten, my brother and I were at the school - the only school in our village. After class began that morning we heard gunfire and men and tanks approached the school and began shooting the children and the teacher.

Dad: And you escaped into the river...

Patrick: Yes, I escaped into the river and swam across to the other side and ran away into the forest.

Mom: But you didn't tell the best part! Tell her about how you were very brave and ran back to save your brother!

Patrick: No...No, I didn't. I was so scared... I just ran. He followed me to safety, but, no, I did not turn back for him.

Mom (visibly disappointed and irate): Now that wasn't the right thing to do, was it Patrick!

Dad: The bible tells us that we must be brave and sacrifice ourselves to help others!

Mom: That wasn't right at all!

Patrick: I... I'm sorry.

THEY MADE HIM APOLOGIZE FOR BEING THE TARGET OF GENOCIDE. This country's fucked up morality combined with unrealistic hollywood portrayals of heroism caused a young boy to have to APOLOGIZE to privileged midwestern Americans for being afraid of murderers with tanks and AK-47s. I can't think of anything more fucked up than that.

AAjax

Well here is mine.

In the late 80's I used to party in historic fashion. One night I was out with my pal's in Hollywood drinking, and drinking and well yeah..drinking.

Last thing I remember was that it was about 1am and we were wondering how to get back to the Valley. Fast forward to the next day, I awaken in a strange room with the most god awful decorations ever, red and orange shag carpet (Im sleeping on it) and black velvet paintings all around. I get up and am glad to see that there are people I know scattered throughout the room. But where am I?

I goto the window and look out, shit! I'm in Mexico. No biggie, Ive spent quite a bit of time here and all will be well as we are not in jail.

As Im looking out the window I notice a large group of black men in LA gang regalia in the parking lot below whooping it up. This is very very strange as you don't see this in Mexico. (Mexicans and black folks generally do not get along that well) Low and behold here come a couple cars with ferderalies (SP?) who pull up and start trying to round these guys up. This does not go well, as some of the gangsters produce weapons.This is a severely bad decision in Mexico.

Without missing a beat the Mexican police grab their shotguns and proceed to shoot most every one in the parking lot. Brutal, brutal scene.

I stepped back from the window, and then threw up.

Im sure every one of those guys was killed, and their families probably never found out what happened to them.

nobodyspecial

Driving down the coast. Two lane road. Cars slow down. A car on the other side is pulled over. Traffic slowing down even more. Some people doing something. Can't quite see from where I am. Traffic moves, I get closer. 10-15 Hells Angels are gathered around the car. Their bikes are strung out on the other side of the road. One of them is muscular. His shirt is off. He has shoulder-length, stringy black hair. And a chain. He's using the chain to whip a man. In front of the man's wife and kids.

badandy80

I was in the US Coast Guard for 6 years. In my first few months, we had to pick up a "floater" (i.e dead body). Two of us went out in a ridged hull inflatable boat to search for the body near where it was last seen. We both didn't have much experience picking up dead bodies. When we found him, he was pretty bloated but seemed intact. We didn't bring much equipment but our hazmat gear and a body bag. Since the body was too heavy to pick up out of the water, we fished a cargo net under it to "roll" it into the bodybag. We quickly realized the mistake as he started "straining" through the net into the water.

xauriel

Can't top that, but i once saw a tweaker take his own eye out with a screwdriver. He was trying to 'fix the lock on his door', the blade slipped, went into his socket, and pulled it right out, and there it was, just kind of hanging against his cheek by the optic nerve. That's a sight I'll never forget.

Itextanddrive

I was in the library:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Columbine_High_School_massacre

I still have nightmares about it. My name is in the article.

elcapitanp

I found my brother's dead body. He had shot himself in the head with a .22 pistol. He was 20, almost 21 and I was 22. For a split second I thought he was okay, he looked really peaceful. Then I realized something was wrong.

It felt like an eternity crossing the room, arm extended, until my fingers touched the flesh of his arm. It felt like rubber. I had two friends waiting for me in my living room, and I just remember walking over to them just staring. I don't remember if I even spoke, but they knew something was horribly wrong.

I went down the hall to my mother's room and for some shellshocked fucked up reason I asked my mom to come and wake up my brother. She walked in his room, got on top of him and went completely nuts. She was swinging him up and down like a rag doll, total adrenaline rush, screaming "My baby!!! My baby!!"

The whole time, our dog is sitting at the foot of the bed, looking up at my mom with his tail wagging. He thought they were playing.

FUCK. That was 14 years ago.

sljepi

Cannon shell (155mm) exploded 150ft behind me killing 71 people. I lay flat on the ground for few seconds, turned around only to see mess and people laying on the ground. It was dead silent. I thought they all ducked like me. They weren't... I ran like I never did in my entire life. Edit: grammar

monsturbater

When my brother and I lived in St. Louis, we would walk to school every morning. This one particular morning would change our lives forever.

We left the house, just like any other morning, walked a block, and saw the elderly Bosnian lady that lived across the street about 15 feet infront of us, walking the same direction. She stops at the crosswalk to cross the street. By this time, we were right behind her, I could even smell her perfume. I said "Hey, you live across the street, my name is Jon, nice to meet you." and she looked at me like I was crazy. I didnt know she didnt speak English, so I just brushed it off, and stood there waiting for the light to change so we could walk across the street.

At that particular point in time, she decided to start her walk across the street. As we are watching her, I see a black truck out of the corner of my eye, and I locked up....I knew what was going to happen, but I simply couldn't do anything but shit my pants and gasp. Next thing I see are her grocery bags flying through the air, and her twisting and contorting underneath the truck in ways that would make you insta-puke.

I then realized I was on the phone with 911...I dont remember dialing or getting my phone out at all. My brother and I walked back home, and just sat....on the couch, and told my dad what happened. He dropped us off at school that day, but I had to walk home at lunch, they still weren't done at the scene, so I took the long way home.

To this day, I think that if I wouldn't have tried to engage her in conversation, that piddily 10 seconds could have spared her life....

The weird thing is, the guy that ran her over was my friends uncle. After speaking with him, we both came to terms that there was nothing we could have done. She was crossing the crosswalk when the "not so safe to cross" sign was up, so he was acquitted of any vehicular manslaughter charges. To this day, he still wont get into a car.

joeyxl

i was on my way to a music practice with my music teacher back in grade 8. we got to an intersection and were behind 5 cars. as i am about to start a conversation. i hear a BOOM and windows crash and watch as my teacher backs up. what had happened was an old couple was driving straight through a red light and a police paddywagon was going about 90 km/h and hit this van head on, the van then hit the first van in front of the line we were in. then then van with old couple hits the streetlight post. i watch as an elderly couple died with me and my teacher trying to help, and the women in the van in front of us was pregnant with broken water and blood gushing out of her head. me and my music teacher didn't goto the music practice. i couldnt't stop shaking for about an hour with shock in my eyes.

vermeer401

Some friends & I were playing in a park (we were about 10-12 years old) that had a bus stop in front of it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large man walk very purposely toward a woman sitting at the bus stop. My friends & I stopped playing & stood staring at the man. She stood up quickly & without saying a single word, he pulled out a gun and shot her in the head. We just stood there mutely while she crumpled to the ground & he just turned on his heel & walked away. That scene has haunted me all my life. My friends & I never talked about it... I think it was just too unreal.

I_am_pope

I was 15, my best friend had just killed himself, but I didn't know it all I knew was that he was shot. Not knowing what to do my dad drives me over to his house.... for some odd reason he tells me I should go in to talk to the family to see what happened but he wouldn't go in (he didn't really know them). So I walk to the door and it is wide open...in a daze i walk up stairs to his room and there he was brains everywhere. His face looked like a raisin, crumpled. Cops in yellow jackets and latex gloves were doing stuff and had flood lights set up... they asked "are you family" I just said "yes" and walked slowly back down the stairs. Turns out everyone was next door at the neighbors.

wedditfan

3 years ago I was in the bike marathon in New york city that goes through all 5 boroughs. Well there are plenty of up hills and down hills, but on some of the downhills you can easily reach speeds of 30+ mph possibly even up to 50 mph.

The last bridge right before the finish line is the verrazano bridge im guessing you easily have a half mile of downhill from the middle of the bridge down to the bottom. All of a sudden about 200 feet infront of me there is a loud boom and i hear someone scream. While riding down the bridge probably pushing 30 mph the poor guys front tire popped causing him to face plant scattering his teeth all over the pavement and scraping most of the skin off of his face. Some how he was conscious and sitting up very dazed.

judasi

A "friend" and his girlfriend stayed in my guest room after a party. The day after they leave and all is fine. Then I smell something foul coming from the guest room. I'm not going into details, but they have had true german fucking scheisse sex all over the room. There was shit all over the bed, shit on the walls, shit on the floor. Shit fucking everywere. I almost died of the shock to my senses. I hired a professional cleaner. One of those fuckers who clean up after dead people...

I know this does in no way top your story. I just thought i'd share. Bask in your glory

ekofromlost

well I live in a big city that unfortunately have lots of homeless children in the streets. No parents or anything at all. They are completely on the loose, like the Slumdog Millionaire kids.

Well one night, about 2am I stopped at a red light and these to boys, about ten, come in front the first row of cars, and one of them drops his shorts, bend over like a pole dancer and the other one proceeded to lick his asshole. Then they exchanged positions. Than the light turned green and we took off.

By the look in their faces they were haveing "fun" and trying to chock people. I just drove away without knowing what to think.

snappyj

Back when I was in the navy, we had a big picnic when we finished one section of our school. Two of the guys in my class decided they would try to drink a gallon of chocolate milk in an hour (by now, you know where that part is headed). So, about 5 minutes to go, and neither guy is even close to doing anything except vomit. Then, out of nowhere, one random guy in the class exclaims "Hey, how much money can we get together if I eat the puke?!" Nobody really knew what to say to that, but out of our 120-person class, we got a whopping $80 together, and apparently that was enough. This guy followed one milk-chugger around until he was ready to pop, got down on his knees in front of him, and let him puke into his mouth. What followed was probably what you would imagine, with multiple other people puking and a handful of others almost puking. After his first mouthful of vomit, he looked around with a big fucking smile on his face, and he went back for a second gulp. The image of this still kind of haunts me. Disgusting.... simply disgusting.

edit: fucking typos

theBelvidere

I feel ashamed to reply to this with a story that I didn't witness, it happened to a guy I went to highschool with. It's quite fucked up though, so in that respect, I'm glad I wasn't there to give a first-hand account.

He and his wife moved to South Africa and one night 2 burglars broke in. They managed to corner the burglars with a shotgun (don't ask me how/why they have a shotgun) and tied them up to chairs and called the police.

While they were waiting for the police to arrive, the burglars kept saying how the police would arrest them, charge them with a misdemeanor (or whatever the South African equivalent is) and after they served their short time, they would come back and rape the girl/kill them both etc.

After the police arrived, the guy spoke to them and told them how the burglars were threatening to come back. The police said, "Unfortunately that's probably what they'll do. Everyone would be better off if the burglars were killed in self defense with that shotgun... so... we're going to leave the room... aim for the head."

EDIT To all the latecomers to this thread, and those waiting for me to finish it: Sorry! They dude did, in fact, shoot the burglars. Thank Odin I live in Canada :) The most fucked up thing I've seen is a person unwilling to give their seat on the subway to a pregnant lady or elderly person.

Shart

That is fucked up.

Strangely enough, my weirdest experience doesn't involve humans at all. I was probably 11 or 12 years old and my mom's friend had taken me and my little brother and sister out for McDonald's. We decided to go to one of the bigger graveyards in my city to sit down and eat (not amidst the gravestones, just by the pond that was there.) A lot of ducks and geese congregated there, and people would go down and feed them bread.

For as long as I could remember, there'd been a pair of swans that lived in that pond. Swans are pretty territorial and they mate for life. These two were pretty accepting of the other birds that made their temporary residence at the pond, I'd never seen them be fierce towards anyone / anything, but I'd also never seen them when they had chicks.

Anyhow, we were sitting there, eating our Big Macs, watching the swans when one of them suddenly started making a horrific sound. A throaty squawk that sounded urgent and pained. It's neck started contorting around in very unnatural ways, it's wings fluttering uselessly. It's mate was going batshit, squawking and making a big fuss, totally helpless.

Finally, the big bird's head convulsed one last time, and it's neck bent in half and came to a rest against the stones on the bank of the pond. It's mate, honest-to-god, sounded like he was crying.

We abandoned our food and drove home in silence.

nellonoma

Hmmm, not sure i can top that. Here's my story...

I was maybe about 8 or 10 years old and my family lived in a suburb just north of Chicago. Every time the circus came to town, we would go see it. This time around it was Ringling Brothers, which i was pumped about.

My family and I were sitting there watching the main ring performance. I looked over to the side ring and noticed the elephants getting wrangled. Things didn't seem to be going smoothly. The elephants were kicking at the trainers and in general just looking pissed off. I noticed that one of the trainers was swinging what looked like a fire poker in the legs of one of the elephants. Hard.

And then I heard a loud bang against the back of my metal chair. It was pretty damned loud and scared the shit outta me. I looked next to me to see my little sister crying in my dad's arms. She was sitting next to me a moment earlier. I heard the bang, looked over and she was already out of her seat. Must have scared the hell outta her. So then I turn around.

Directly behind me there is a man with a hole in the middle of his forehead gushing blood. His face was pale white and his girlfriend was holding his head. She looked like she was screaming but nothing was coming out (she eventually got it out and was screaming hysterically). I looked at the back of my sisters chair and saw a dent with the top of a fire poker laying on the ground.

Turns out the elephant kicked the fire poker breaking off the head, which sent it flying directly over my head, into this poor man's forehead.

We then proceeded to watch the rest of the circus. Not sure what ever happened to the guy. Tried looking it up. Not sure if he died or not.

Solia

About four years ago, driving down a highway in the state of New York at night, the door of the speeding, erratically swerving car in front of us opened and a woman flung out. We managed to avoid her, stopped and turned around to help. The woman was broken in several places and seriously injured. Turns out she and her boyfriend were fighting and he thought the appropriate way to solve the issue was to try and kill her by literally kicking her out of his car. We heard that she died later in the hospital.

Adamamp

When I was in high school, my mom purchased a house with some property and we moved in. The person who lived there before was a pack-rat and so the realitor company agreed to find someone to clean up the property and clean it up. Enter this guy "Rick". Rick was hired to clean up the property, which he did for a little while, but then one day asked if he could bring some of his stuff over to store in the carport area of our home. My mom is a pushover and let him. To make a long story short, they start dating, and he moves in. To make a long sotry even shorter, one day they get into an argument, over his workshop of all things, he comes to the house, kicks down the door and grabs my mom and starts choking her. Hes so strong my mom cant even resist. I stayed home from school this day cause i was sick, and heard the noise of the door being kicked in, my mom yelling (until she was being strangled), and Rick shouting at her. I go into the spare room, call the police, and grabbed my .308 and walked into the living room with it loaded and pointed at his head. My mom's still struggling, I tell him that the police are already on their way, and to let go of my mom. He looked at me, still with rage in his eyes, and decided to let go of my mom. She collapsed, breathing heavily and choking, and he left. I kept the rifle pointed at him till he was 200 feet from our house. The police showed up 25 minutes later... I truly believe she he would have killed her if i wasnt there. Dude was unstable.

[deleted]

As i walked from the train station in my hometown to my house, i took a shortcut through a park. This park has one streetlamp, about halfway through it. I was texting and listening to music on my ipod, stupidly, so i had effectivly blinded and deafened myself. Just as I was approaching the streetlamp, i was grabbed in a headlock from behind. another man approached me as i quickly pulled my headphone out and tried not to struggle. he said 'he'll slit your throat you know, this ain't no joke.' i panicked, used the back of my head to butt the man holding me. As he recovered i started fighting with the second.

(This may seem like an unnatural response, but i assure you, i would do the same thing now. i have mentioned i was bullied in school, and beaten to a pulp on other occasaions. i have also trained in martial arts - my uncle ran a kung fu class. before all this, my mother had told me to utilise non-violent tactics. after having being attacked in high school however, she changed her mind. i didn't believe he had a knife to my throat so i started fighting back.)

As i grappled with the second man, the one who had held me started hitting me rapidly with the side of his fist, i ignored this, and tried to continue fighting the one who was punching me 'properly' in the face. i fell to the ground, at which point he shouted 'you're going to stay down!' i was getting kicked in my head and stomach and all i could think was if i stay down, i'm dead - i dragged myself up using his clothes and continued to try and fight him. by this time he was completely enraged - his knife-wielding partner had run away. we continued grappling with eachother - until i realised i wasn't doing any damage, everything i did was sluggish, i could barely move. i thought this was because i'd had my tonsils out exactly a week before and i wasn't supposed to even be out the house; i decided to make a run for it. he grabbed hold of the zip-through hooded top i was wearing by the material on my shoulders, i unzipped it and 'ran' towards my home. i turned back once, and saw him running in the opposite direction. as i ran i noticed a stitch in my side, i looked down at my hand and saw it covered in blood. i was about a quarter of a mile from home, and i still had my phone. (i live accross the road from the park, i can see it from where i'm sitting.)

i called my home, my uncle answered, i told him what'd happened as quickly as i could, he hung up and ran into the park to find me. he and another uncle dragged me to safety after i called him back on his mobile as i was losing consciousness and i sat on my garden wall vomitting - this was st patricks day, so there were revellers out and about walking down our street from the pub. they assumed i was drunk and started asking 'easy lad, you had a good night? get it all up! better out than in!' - my uncles were holding me up from both sides, one of them dropped me and my head almost cracked against the pavement, but for the other one who pulled me back up as the first started shouting at the st patrick celebrators that i'd been stabbed. (why he did this i'll never know) eventually, while praying, the ambulance arrived. i got to the hospital and was rushed in like you see on ER, i'd been injected with morphine at this point, so everything hurt less. as the nurses cleaned my wounds and stitched them, my mother came into the treatment room with tears in her eyes. i told her to leave, and come back when she'd calmed down. she did. she sat with me and told me to lean my head back because she saw something on my throat. when i did she exclaimed 'oh my god. the fucking bastards tried to slit your throat.' and ran her finger along a tiny scratch that i had running from one ear to the other.

tldr: i was stabbed 14 times and left for dead in a park but managed to make it home. 1 punctured my lung, another was a mm off my spine.

edit: paragraphs, details.

Efflux

I was in highschool, probably 16 or 17 years old in my "punk/hardcore" phase. I was over a friends house who was 24, at the time. Anyway, one of his friends was over too. His name was "Shank" because he apparently spent some time in jail for shanking some guy with a screw driver and also for what I was about to see. So for whatever reason Shank ask's "Hey you guys wanna see something fucked up?" Obviously, we all say "Yeah." So he goes out to his car and comes back with a VHS tape. The tape gets popped in and it shows "Shank" standing there with a big wooden pole. He walks over to some guy in a field, like a park, and just hits some dude straight in the face with it. The pole snaps in half, blood, skin and half a wooden pole flying through the air. The guy drops like a sack of bricks. Shank drops the other half of the pole and walks away.

"Woah, why the fuck did you do that?" I ask. Shank responds "Dude was talking shit so I went inside and got one of those wooden dowels. Like the kind that holds up your clothes in the closet and I hit him in the head for talking shit."

"Was he alright?"

"Yeah he lived, but he was like permanently retarded after that. The cops never found the tape."

So he hit this dude in the head, with something almost as thick as a baseball bat and broke it straight in two. I know he spent some time in jail for the incident but I have no idea how long. Needless to say, it was pretty fucked up. Also I saw a woman get trashed by a car a couple steps in front of me, but that's another story.

imaletyoufinishbut

When I was 4 years old I was forced to watch my mom take our 7 cats and butcher them alive. Haven't been able to shake the horror, nor have I ever been able to dodge it from creeping up in my nightmares.

italkgood

Not me, but a friend of mine watched a motorcyclist without a helmet bash his brains out on the cement.

Seriously, kids. Always wear your helmet.

tacitblue

I grew up in a small logging town in northwestern Ontario, one late spring day we were out on the lake in a canoe when we see what appears to be a manikin in a blue dress floating in some weeds. My older brother turns the manikin over. It's not a manikin. It's the body of a local girl who went missing over the Christmas holidays the previous winter. She's missing most of her face, nose is gone... eyes and lips are eaten away, really horrifying sight. Geoff drops the body off the paddle and we paddle over to the RCMP police dock. They of course don't believe us and tell us to stop making up wild stories. We swear to them it's true, tell them to call our parents, basically beg them to get in their boat and we will take them to it.

They finally agree and we go back to the spot. They get within 20 feet and realize we were telling the truth. Well they got their shit together, dropped us off and told us to go home. Had bad dreams for a while after that.

MisterFixit

I was living in Manchester, NH at 18-20 years old. This was back almost 15 years ago, but my memory of this event is as clear as it was the day it happened.

I awoke one Sunday afternoon to sirens coming down the street. Now, for those who are unfamiliar with Manchester, it's really the only "city" in New Hampshire that has what I'd call "urban nature" to it. Sure there's some other "cities" like Nashua and Concord, but Manchester is the only place in NH that I know of where you can find prostitutes, drugs, tons of cops, and a good time all on the same corner.

So, the sounds of the sirens themselves didn't alarm me, but the sounds of the sirens stopping right outside my window did. I jumped up out of bed thinking there must be a fire or something. Looking out the window, I could see that the fire trucks were responding to something that was happening in the building across the street. Being curious, I put my shoes on, collected myself, and went down to have a look.

I turned the corner, and noticed that the ground I was standing on was no longer dry. I looked at my sneakers and realized that for about 15 feet, I had been walking in a LOT of blood. I had never seen so much.

Getting to the other side of the building, where all the action was taking place, I was able to clearly see what had happened. I knew, from my earlier deaings with the person I saw on the ground, exactly what had happened, but I was later filled in on the details, which I'll get to in a moment.

Lying on the ground next to me was a sneaker, covered in blood. A few feet away was the victim's head.

"Old Joe," as he had been called, lived on the third floor of his apartment building. Joe had a drinking problem, to say the least of it. His drinking wasn't lost on anyone responding to the call because the smell of alcohol was in the air... coming off of his blood all over the ground.

Evidently, Old Joe liked to get drunk and sit on the railing overlooking a parking lot. He had jumped up on the railing this day, like every other day, except this time he went right over. It might not have been so bad, except that he hit directly upon one of those cement parking lot headers meant to stop people from driving into the wall of the building.

His head came right off of his torso, his limbs basically seperated from his body for the most part, and this man was emptied right there in the parking lot for all to see.

Still today, whenever I smell alcohol, I have memories of the blood everywhere. I had to throw out my shoes because the smell of those alone stunk up my house when I got back inside.

I'll never forget it.

deusnefum

No where near as fucked up as the submitter's story, but this is probably mine:

My mother, father, and I were on vacation in San Fransisco, visiting my Mom's Aunt and second cousin. I was 10 years old at the time. I can't remember where we went, but we were at a park somewhere. Wandering around with my family, looking at stuff we noticed a large group of people and some police cars and a fire truck or two. There was a sense of spectacle, not emergency. So my parents wandered over. I wasn't really paying attention to what my parents were talking about, I just knew that they, like me and everyone else were curious about what was going on. I saw some people standing at the top of a 3-story concrete parking garage. Standing on the edge was a young-looking guy, holding a 20oz bottle of soda. We stared at him. What was he doing? I'm not really sure how much time went by. My parents moved around to get a better view of the top.

He jumped. I remember watching him fall, his bottle of soda falling slightly behind him. I saw him hit the ground. I heard the Gallagher-esque sound of his skull bursting open against the concrete curb. I felt sick. My parents walked away, not saying a word to me. Not checking with me. Not seeing if I were scared or upset. I was upset. I felt sick. I didn't know how to feel. My parents said nothing, just quietly started to walk away from the area. The show was over, time to do something else.

More disturbing than that was me seeing and hearing some college-aged looking kids laughing about the guy who killed himself. Joking about the splat of the dead-guy's skull. Talking so nonchalantly about a life they had just watch self-extinguish. What humor was there in this?

Even more disturbing than that, I saw a police officer on a bicycle ride up to an older woman sitting on a park bench. A few seconds after watching their mouths silently move from afar, she let an anguished shriek. It drove the feeling away from my skin and turned my stomach. It wasn't a horror-movie shriek. It was the visceral cry of a mother (or now that I think about, maybe grandmother), try to reject reality. It was unlike anything I have ever heard before and caused me physical pain. I instantly knew what it meant. Her loved one was dead and I could feel her pain. My parents said nothing.

EDIT: Punctuation and grammar.

kimb00

What the fuck was your friend thinking, having sex without a condom with a homeless former meth addict?

gridpoet

When i was a kid, about 10 or 11, we were spending the day at Mohichan park in mid Ohio... the weather was cloudy all day and around 4 or 5 the wind suddenly started to pick up terribly... pretty soon a terrified couple go running past us and say that there is a Tornado headed right towards the picnic area we were in. My father was a very intelligent man and not prone to panic, so he packed us up and we were about to head in the direction of the car when we hear a blood curdling scream.

The wind was howling at this point and dead branches are showering down around us, my father looks at us and shouts for us to get to shelter and he takes off towards the scream. My mother and sister and Grandmother are panicking at this point and take off toward the picnic shelter leaving me standing and looking at my fathers back as he runs to help. I'm pretty scared at this point, but i want to help too, so after dodging a few falling branches (one of which catches me along the side of the leg leaving a nice 4 inch gash in my calf, of which i still have the scar today) i head in the direction of my dad.
As i crest the hill into the small valley i see my father kneeling over something. He turns to me with he most horrified look and screams for me to go back to my mother, i had never seen him so upset. It wasn't until i was older that he finally talked about what had happened, just remembering the hollow look on his face makes me start to tear up. 
Apparently a woman and her husband had been hiking in the woods and when the storm had blown up they had headed directly for the shelter area. Unfortunately a tree had fallen and struck the man solidly on the head. When my father reached him he managed, with the help of a branch and a lot of adrenaline, to roll the tree off of him.  He discovered that the man's head had been crushed and split open, he was still alive and breathing and my father sat with his head on his lap holding his skull together with his bare hands trying to keep his brains from spilling out onto the ground.... he died literally in his arms.

privatejoker86

I'm not playing anymore.

EggyWeggs

I discovered a severed penis in a bathroom stall once. Does that count?

fdsg80fbhdsj

throw away account.

The worst thing I've ever seen? Naked pictures of my father in weird positions on the internet. I will never forget.

giantsfan134

Sorry to disappoint, but mine isn't fucked up in a depressing/disgusting way where people get dismembered like everyone else.

I'm in NYC walking to work in Manhattan and as I'm walking by a McDonald's and see this dirty homeless guy walking in. He's got this torn up white t-shirt on, oh and that's all he's got on. As soon as he stepped foot in the building the manager rushed out to make him leave. He didn't want to leave though.

The homeless guy starts trying to explain himself repeating, "no shirt, no service" and gesturing to his shirt as though he had a valid argument. I don't know if McDonald's has a 'no shirt, no shoes' policy, but I don't think the manager was really concerned about his adherence to it either way. His distinct lack of pants seemed to be the major consideration.

I guess he knew he wasn't getting in (not that he seemed to have any money), so he decided now was an opportune time for a nice long relieving piss, right on the manager. The manager just stood there, piss rolling down his pants, splashing onto his shirt, and splattering all over his shoes and the ground. And he continued to stand there completely immobile and speechless, as if his brain just couldn't process a homeless guy pissing all over him.

It seemed to go on forever, and the homeless guy kept on keeping on, and the manager just stood there, face completely red out of anger and humiliation. Then when he was done, the homeless guy just walked away, and the manager continued to stand there frozen, drenched in urine.

I couldn't stop laughing about it all day.

[deleted]

user1notfound

while in college at a California state school my roommate was throwing a party. we were standing around in the dorm hall and i struck up a conversation with a girl. she said that she had a good friend in another dorm building - whose roommate self aborted - and kept it under the bed for weeks until her friend started to smell it and finally called the RA.

Linkrz

nintendo wii was on my mind that night as I ran desperately to the game station shop around soho new York before they closed. out of no where I hear a loud thump I have seen many car accidents so in my mind I was already shaking my head thinking .. "aw damn, another person got hit" i stop and turn to look in the middle of the busy street and see like a 10 year old kid on the floor with his parents crying desperately for help. so sad.. that's when it happened. As he laid there lifeless from the first impact - a car behind the him rolls slowly over his head. i was in such shock I couldn't breath or scream for help. everyone around the kid stayed quiet for about 10 long seconds. that's when I heard the loudest terrifying shriek of my life. the mom was crying and screaming hysterically and banging on the car to stop which it eventually did. afterwards, I see the boy in his moms arms head flattened with white foam comming out his mouth/face.

mindshadow

The situation and finger painting with a baby make your story fucked up. However, I watched my wife miscarry my 3 month old embryo in the bathtub. Blood (a flow and sometimes clots) and parts of who knows what were pouring out of her vagina, mixing with the water and turning transparent. She was crying, hurting like hell, and I could do nothing.

That is probably the most fucked up thing I have witnessed simply for the emotions involved, if anything. I've definitely seen more gore and blood but when something you love is flowing down the drain, yeah... it's fucked.

bonkeydong

Ok so these have all been absolutely tragic and some disturbing stories so i have decided to share my story. i actually have 2 pretty sucky stories so here goes nothing! when i was 10 years old my 15 year old brother decided to commit suicide..but not in any normal way, him and his best friend had decided they were going to kill themselves in a car accident because his best friends brother had died in a drunk driving accident a few months earlier. so for 2 weeks they planned their suicide told all sorts of people about it and everyone in their graduating class knew about it. not one of them told any adults, teachers, etc. so on the morning of may 1 2000 my brother and his friend decided to douse a car in gasoline take a bunch of pain pills and benzos and smoke a whole bunch of weed. they then stole his friends fathers ford bronco and they drove around town calling all of their friends to say goodbye. then they sped the car up to about 110 mph and slammed into the same tree his brother had died on a few months earlier as the result of a drunk driving accident. the car went up in flames and both of their bodies were barely identifiable when my family and i went to identify the body my brother was in multiple pieces all mangled i freaked out and left the room and so did my parents and they decided to give the coroner dental records to identify him because it was just too difficult. after that we drove by the tree the next day (not on purpose) and the fire from the accident was so bad that it melted the pavement and they had to cut down the tree.when i ask his friends why he did it they simply say that he had told them "i cant let my best friend die alone" repeatedly..... it tore my entire life apart. not too much time later when i was 13 i was at soccer practice waiting for a ride home. when my mom never showed up to pick me up i had my coach give me a ride home. when i got home i found my mother completely out of it she had no idea what day it was...nothing although this was nothing new to me because since my brothers death she started abusing alcohol and pills. so i told her to lay down and take a nap. i then got her a blanket told her i loved her and went upstairs to play on the computer. since i was 13 i was up there for like 2 hours on aim talking about nothing...meanwhile my mother was dying downstairs on the couch. when my father got home from work he started cooking dinner he called me downstairs when it was ready and asked me to wake up my mother and tell her that dinner was ready. when i walked into the living room to wake her up i found her purple pale sweating like crazy and she had a bloody nose her eyes wouldnt open and she was not breathing nor did she have a pulse. i ran over to my dad and without even saying anything he knew what was wrong he told me to call 911 while he did cpr but i told him i couldnt do it so i threw the phone at him and he called 911 i gave her cpr for like 20 minutes until help arrrived they eventually put her on life support then she died a few hours later. the hardest thing i ever had to do was walk into that room and make the decision with my father to pull the plug. after they pulled the plug i felt a calming sensation. then i proceeded to collapse and cry and freak out those were the two most horrible things i have ever seen. they have totally fucked my world up. thanks to the drunk driver who started the whole thing who only served 8 years for killing 2 teenagers who were barely 18 because he was drunk and racing someone....thanks jason ****** you singlehandedly ruined my life. i hope he feels the remorse from actually killing 4 people and ruining many more peoples lives. he has since gotten out of jail and i saw him at a party over the summer getting hammered. some things never change. i dunno if this compares to the tragic and gruesome stories i have seen but it felt good to get it off my chest. thanks

cryptyk

I ride motorcycles at Palomar Mountain in San Diego, Ca. It attracts a lot of people that don't have enough skill to ride safely up there. There are typically 3 accidents in a weekend. I was following two bikes down the hill one day and as we came around a corner, there was a big-rig water truck coming the opposite direction. As the lead bike approached, the truck made a sudden u-turn across the windy mountain road into a small turn-out. The bike smashed head-on into the grill of the truck at a combined speed of around 80mph. The biker bounced off the truck, leaving a massive, body-shaped imprint on the grill. The second bike stopped in time, as did I. We pulled our helmets off and ran to the lead biker. When I looked through the shattered visor, I recognized that it was an acquaintance of mine, Sally.
Sally was a 60-something rider who frequents the mountain. I didn't know her well, but she was still someone who I had talked to a couple of times at the vegetarian restaurant at the top of the mountain. The other biker who witnessed this seemed pretty distraught and was screaming all kinds of things that weren't helping: "She's fucking dead, man!" "She's never going to make it!"

Sally was out cold, and her breathing was extremely shallow, but I still had to say something. I told him, "Just calm down - Don't say things like that because she might still be able to here you."

That's when the bomb dropped. He screamed at me, "That's my fucking wife, man!"

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I was newly married and had a flash of the panic he must be feeling as I imagined the situation reversed, with my wife laying in front of a 18-wheeler in the middle of nowhere.

I regained my composure really quickly and gave him the best advice I could, given the situation. "She needs you to tell her that you love her, and that everything is going to be o.k."

He did, but I could tell from his crying that he didn't believe it anymore than I did. EMS showed up and air-lifted Sally off the mountain. She died in transit.

I still ride, because it's such a part of who I am. I'll never be able to erase the snapshots that are stuck in my mind, though, when I think back to that day at Palomar.

Typing this out was oddly therapeutic. It's not something I've really talked about before.

DRUMSKIDOO

Probably the sickest thing i've witnessed..

Coming home from a club near my town about 3 years ago. We were sitting in the back of the taxi home and a call came through to not go down Liverpool Road...it just so happened we were already halfway down Liverpool road. The taxi driver wasn't really sure what was going on either so he turned to us and told us to keep our eyes peeled.

As we turned the corner we could see a body in the middle of the road lying face down and the guys jaw was like stretched like someone had made him bite the kurb or something...there was blood streaming from his mouth and nose. We literally drove 1 metre away from him, it was horrible! The police had just arrived at the scene when we drove past.

TooMuchButtHair

The most fucked up thing I've ever seen was my sister, dead with her skull in several pieces, lying on an emergency room bed.

She was unstable, and had tried to kill herself dozens, hell, maybe hundreds of times over the course of her life. Each time she'd tried, she'd just taken hundreds of aspirin, or Tylenol. When she finally succeeded, it was the result of jumping off a two story balcony, and landing head first. She survived the fall, and was air lifted to a hospital.

Once there, the doctors performed surgery on her for about 25 minutes, until it was apparent that there was no chance she was going to make it. My dad and I arrived about 15 minutes after they stopped trying. He demanded that we be let in to see her. She was lying on the hospital bed with a tube in her throat, a brace around her neck, and extremely bloody tape holding her skull together.

That's the most fucked up thing I've ever seen.

My old roommate is a paramedic. He tells all the good stories. There's a certain disconnect from the drama after a while when you're in the business. If you don't become detached you'll never make it.

One night he was bringing an old woman to the hospital with all vital signs failing. One thing leads to another and he has to start CPR. While he's doing chest compressions she goes septic. He had some term for it but I don't remember what it was. Basically she projectile vomited right there in the back of the ambulance. The vomit was everything in her stomach and some things in her intestines. It went all over his arms. It's an obvious sign that she just checked out. He just started yelling "GOODBYE!". (She was dead already - she wouldn't have heard that)

There's another time when a guy was working under his car. The gas tank leaked on him and he caught fire. They show up to the house and the guy's in the shower because he's hot and trying to cool off. He kept asking if he was going to be ok. My buddy calls for the helicopter and starts to attend to him. He sees that the shower is clogged so starts to clear the drain. It was the guy's skin, and he said it looked like a burnt hot dog. Pink and black and crispy.

WillyBeShreddin

So, picture it, small town in Indiana, hot summer evening, getting a burger and a shake from the town's only drive thru. The girls even wore skates as they served you in your car, but anyways to the story. It was one of those towns where the only main road is a highway running right down the middle of town, and the drive thru was right inside the city limits. All the cruisers and bikers would cruise by and gun their car/bike to impress everyone chilling at the drive thru. So this one guy goes down about a mile on his crotch rocket, spins around and then floors it coming back into town. Everyone sees it and is watching, except for the mother with two kids that decides to pull out in front of him in there nifty Ford Taurus.

So this guy T bones this family car (luckily near the front, no injuries in the car) going roughly 100 mph. The bike stops, but he flies through the air for at least 100 feet and then hits the pavement and continues to slide and roll down the asphalt.

I was a lifeguard at the time, so I started running out to him to see if I could help. "He was wearing his leathers, so the slide across the pavement shouldn't be too bad," I thought to myself as I sprinted to help. I was not the first to get out to him, but as we all approached, we could hear muffled screaming and hear him saying something that I still can't figure out. Anyway the first guy to him, kneels down and starts to try to get check him out, and then he snaps back to his feet with a jolt and starts yelling, " OMG, OMG, OMG!!!" I couldn't figure out why he would run in and then react like that, especially since the guy was obviously talking still.

And then I realized that though his helmet was face up, his torso was facing down. The guys neck was broken and his head was now backwards. As I said to myself, "WTF" the guy stops saying anything, it had been about 15 seconds since the accident I would guess by this time. The guy was deader than dead when the next person went in to checked his vitals. We all just stood there as blood started oozing out of his helmet. CPR never taught us about this one.

It was at this moment that I knew that I did not want to be decapitated or have a dismemberment of my head, because your head can do things even when the rest of you is pretty dead. Just like the stories I've heard about people on the guillotine having facial expressions after being decapitated, this guy knew what the fuck just happened to him. Most fucked up thing I've encountered.

NipponNiGajin

I'm going to lighten this thread up a little. I was about 10 and I was in the car with my family, with my Dad driving. We were sitting stopped at a red light. Two cars come flying down the other side of the road, somehow collide and one of the cars mounts the curb across from ours and smashes into a pole. There was a woman driver slumped over the wheel not moving and smoke began pouring out from underneath the hood. My dad gets out of the car, runs across the road and tries to open the door. Because of the collision the door is crumpled and won't open. So my Dad rips the fucking door off the car, and drops it on the road. Grabs the woman, carries her over to the side of the road, hands her to some bystanders, gets back in our car and drives away. Doesn't say a word. Saw on the news later she had been taken to hospital and was fine.

Sconathon

I saw a man getting beaten to death by a gang in downtown L.A. All the assailants seemed to have escaped before the cops showed up.

rebel

I was 16 or 17, living on the streets of downtown Pittsburgh. I had recently managed to get a bed in a group shelter called Whales Tale that was a pilot program for teens who should not be re-integrated with their home/family. You get dinner and if you are in by curfew, a bunk, a storage chest, and a nights sleep, then breakfast. Then they kick you out until evening. If you missed a curfew you lost your bed to another kid, and there were always others waiting.

Unfortunately one of the counselors was twisted, and basically tried to molest me. I reported him, but during the process the other counselors and the board became aware I was gay. So did all of the residents.

There were bunk barack style rooms for girls and boys. The board freaked out and I was kicked out of the program since they felt uncomfortable with me being with the other boys.

It was november. I spent the first night wearing most of my clothing (no coat) in a doorway to a Woolworth store trying to stay out of the sleet. Cops drive by, people, no one cared.

BTW, I was a rather attractive white boy who looked very out of place on the streets.

I realized the next day I can't survive another night out, so I go to a light of light mission over on the north side. This is where the shit's "real."

I get in, am "processed" by them taking everything from me and locked away somewhere, then hosing me down in a shower room, giving me a hospital gown, a sheet and told to find a bunk. I am also told there is no leaving under any circumstances except via the fire escape door and I would not be allowed back in if I went out.

The room is full of plastic mattresses on bunk beds. I find a top bunk and cover up. The room is full of all kinds of very scary older men, mostly black, many obviously crazy. I was terrified.

Eventually the lights go out. All I can see is silhoettes of others in their bunks lit by the EXIT sign on the far side of the room.

I start to drift off eventually, and all of the sudden hear shouting. I open my eyes and I see a guy standing next to a bunk trying to climb in it while making stabbing motions down onto the chest of the person in the top bunk. People start running out the fire escape door into the cold. You could hear the wetness of the stabs by the time I get to the door and out into the cold.

Eventually the cops came. Apparently the killer was still stabbing the corpse when they arrived.

We were left to huddle in the cold until just before dawn when they started letting us back in to get our clothes and leave.

I went back to Whales tale that morning to plead them to let me back in. They told me to come back in the evening to see if they would give me a bed again.

I sat on the creosoted log planter along the sidewalk of a Wendy's nearby. Next thing I know I am waking up on the sidewalk as business people are stepping over and around me. I had passed out from exhaustion. No one cared. I wasn't even looked at. I was there for hours like that.

Whales Tale denied me a bed.

I then turned to prostitution. Luckily at that time, an attractive wholesome looking white boy could get 120 bucks for topping and oral. That was a lot of money, enough for me to rent a hotel room in a shady dive (I was too young to rent at a nice hotel without my parents).

Eventually Whales Tale let me back in and I stopped turning tricks. Eventually I got a job as a manager in training in a Mrs. Fields cookie store (totally lied about my age despite looking rather young). First paycheck found a roomie to move in with. It didn't last and I ended up back on the streets for a number of reasons, but I eventually got off them.

drunkentune

Nowhere near as bad as the OP, but I used to work in a movie theater as an usher during high school.

Let me tell you, you wouldn't believe the shit that would go down. Things were so rough we had two police officers working there full time. Someone would pull a gun every other day. Lots of fights. Kids in the Bloods would come by en masse to request free drinks, do drugs, sneak in movies, and so on.

Well, one day I'm cleaning up one of the long corridors outside a movie theater and I hear two voices. A boy and a girl. Lots of grunting. I take a step and they hear my footfall. Then bam, I hear the two voices make for the door. I turn the corner and I see a used condom lying there on the ground. At least they used protection.

So I clean it up. This isn't too out of the ordinary.

I then get a call over the radio that I'm needed in the men's bathroom.

You see, about once a month we'd have a crazy homeless man come in the movie theater. He'd scrounge up enough change to buy a matinee film, then hide out for the rest of the day. Probably eat the nasty-ass popcorn we'd sell. The guy would wait until it was late, then take a shit in his hand and draw all sorts of shit-paintings on the bathroom walls and mirrors. A shit-rainbow. A shit-smiley-face. A shit-circle. A shit-river.

I arrive. The three of us ushers decide to pick straws. I draw the short one. I clean the shit-art up.

My boss walks in, smells the shit, and proceeds to vomit all over the bathroom floor and my shoes.

He demands that I clean it up.

It's the only day I've cleaned up cum, shit and vomit in quick succession.

koldphusion

It was December of 2004 and I was pulling guard at the Ministry of oil in Iraq, we normally go out for a patrol at 7pm, but my Sargent got the shits from chow and decided we would go later. As we were getting some well needed rack time a massive explosion went off. We all jumped off our cots and got our gear on. We ran to an underpass just outside the MOO and found two blown up cars. Being one of the first people on the scene with medical equipment I ran to the first car to find both passengers dead, the mans head ripped open, and the little boy whose jaw was in his lap. Knowing I couldn't do anything for them I ran around the car to find a little girl lying on the ground covered in blood and limp, we later found out every bone in her body was crushed from the shock wave. She was still alive and crying. By this time the real Medic showed up and I went to secure the area with a couple of other soldiers. One of the few guys that got there when I did and saw the stuff I did walked over to me. "Pretty fucked up huh?" he said "want a smoke?" I had never smoked a day in my life before that. That was the day I started smoking. That IED was ment for us, it went off because they knew we walked down that road every day. That was probably the most fucked up night of my life.

elburto

Not long after I'd moved in with my girlfriend we'd gone out to do some shopping and see a film. It was a beautiful day, the middle of summer, and just one of those days where you're in love, the weather's great, you've had fun, and it's been a perfect Saturday.

The multiplex is on the outskirts of Middlesbrough, and the roads near there are a notorious accident blackspot, therefore on the way home it wasn't too surprising at all to see a police rapid response bike pull past us on the flyover junction, then drive on the left-edge of the traffic to a point some way down the road. The junction we were at was higher than where the policeman ended up, so I could see his lights flashing. About five minutes later the traffic eased up enough for us to start moving slowly again, and we approached the bike.

The officer was on his radio having placed some cones aound the edge of the 'incident'. As I looked out from my window I could se a trike on it's side. Not like a Harley trike, but a bloody pedal-powered three-wheeler that looked like it was made during the War . That particular junction and road are dangerous enough if you're encased in a couple of tons of metal, you'd have to be quite mentally unwell to attempt it on a bike.

The road was covered with the usual accident debris like glass, broken headlights and then I saw a loose tennis shoe and a handbag, some bags full of shopping, the usual contents like fruit and veg, crisps, and teabags had spilled onto the road, and next to the shopping, just perfectly stood on the road was a head. An adult human head still encased in an undamaged cycle helmet, resting on the neck stump, just perched next to the shopping bags.

To this day it isn't the head that makes me upset to remember it, or the fact that someone was crazy enough to ride a trike down the A66 on a saturday afternoon, it was the shopping. It was so mundane, so ordinary, the same kind of stuff we had in the back of our car, the same products that grace most kitchen cupboards just so out of place and spilled over the road, right next to someone's head. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Had they planned to have their grandkids over for tea on Sunday afternoon, were they caring for someone older who would be waiting for them to come home?

It was five years ago and it still creeps me out.

BelieveinFacts

2001 - Temporarily moved back in with my parents. They live twenty miles from a small town in Arizona up a dirt road in the middle of the forests. My older brother is back from military duty and my younger brother is a drunk stoner. Both my parents are alcoholics, sixteen vehicles on their property (1 works), seven dogs and a couple of chickens.

My brothers and I decide to go for a ride down one of the more exciting dirt roads, which really wasn't a road at all more of a boulder infested 'path' that you would break an ankle on if on foot. Having a good time we come to a small clearing where some hunters have set up "off season" as a sorta home base. We have to turn around to leave but there isn't room with their trucks parked right at the point the tree's meet the clearing making a sorta blockade and we can't hit reverse going up that road. My older brother gets out and approaches the two hunters not out hunting and asks them if they could move their trucks for a minute.

I'm in jeep with my younger brother and they start yelling and my brother is standing there calm trying to explain. I turn to my brother to tell him we should go back him up and my younger brother says "shit". Just that one word, deadpan. I turn and my older brother has turned white, absolutely still a blank look on his face. Creepiest thing I have ever seen. Apparently one of the hunters took a swing at him.

My brother pulls his gun and just shoots the guy. In the stomach, turns and walks back to us. The shock on the hunters face and the draining of color, the spreading of the blood around the black hole in his shirt all stick with me to this day. My brother climbs back in the jeep, uses it to push the truck out of the way and we head back.

We get back, I call the hick police department. They arrest the three of us but can't find the hunters. No victims no crime apparently.

FlanCrest

about 2 years ago i was living in a highrise in downtown denver. it was spring and my roommates and i were at the pool on the 2nd floor patio of our building, swimming. we heard a loud clash and then a girl scream. we look at the girl who is in a lounge chair, covered in blood, and on the deck next to her was the lower half of a man's body cut in half at the waist, with entrails hanging out of the top. the guy had jumped off of the 39th floor and landed on an iron fence separating the 2nd floor pool area from another deck on the 1st floor. his legs stayed up, the rest of him ended up on the floor below. we ran inside and called the police.

after the initial shock of it subsided, i was really just angry at the guy. seriously, if you want to kill yourself, you dont have to endanger anyone else. the pool was crowded, he landed less than a foot from a poor girl who is no doubt traumatized for life. a foot to the left and he would have crushed her.

Toploader

In one night I saw a guy die from a heroin overdose, a guy die from a gunshot wound to the head, and a baby die from asphyxiation.

It was that night that I decided I didn't want to be a doctor.

talashira

I was working my first shift as an EMT at a hospital ER. It had been a particularly quiet night, and I was almost ready to go home when a call came in about a guy who had brought his truck to a stop before a red light on the train tracks and had been promptly plowed into by an oncoming Amtrak engine.

The guy was brought in in asystole (his heart had stopped). Everyone else was scrambling to do all the things I wasn't qualified to do, which left me as the one in charge of one very important task: CPR. Determination overcame my terror, and I worked on him single-mindedly until a heartbeat had returned.

Immediately following my success, a trach was prepared to get him some oxygen, since his airway was blocked. I stood back for a moment so that the incision could be made in his throat. Aside from some blood coming from his ears, he looked to be in decent shape, considering his ordeal, and I remember thinking, He really might actually make it.

That was when it was discovered that the seat belt he'd been wearing at the moment of impact had wrapped around his neck and completely mangled his windpipe. There was absolutely no way he would ever be able to breathe again.

I was forced to watch in shock and horror as everyone stood back and waited for his heart to once again come to a stop before calling time of death.

I will never forget that I had to willingly let die the first person I'd ever helped save.

xMadxScientistx

My freshman year in high school, I met a boy in my year that had previously been homeschooled his whole life. He had buzz cut brown hair and a lazy eye that seemed to look off in another direction. He was a skinny redneck kid, one of those people you called by their first and last names.

I tried to be friendly because we were both new. Every conversation we had ended up being about how much he liked to go hunting. He loved to talk about his guns and the doe he had in the freezer. This freaked me out a little bit, partly because I'd never known anybody that into hunting, and partly because I was a teenage girl. He'd get this far off look in his eyes when he talked about hunting. I learned to avoid him after a while.

I didn't see him for a while after freshman year. I heard he dropped out as a junior, but I'm not sure what happened. Then, my freshman year in college, I ran into him at my school. He told me he was seeing a high school girl and that he had an apartment. He invited me to a party that Saturday night. I declined, saying I had other plans, when in reality I just wanted far away from him.

A few months later, I was out with some friends when one of them told me he was in jail. I asked what was going on. Apparently he murdered his 15 year old girlfriend's parents. His girlfirend had gotten pregnant, and that made them mad. They threatened to call the police on him for statutory, and so they decided they'd just murder her parents. They stayed in the house with the bodies for three days. They didn't bury them. They didn't hide them. They just left them where they fell. He shot the girl's father in his bed, he shot the girl's step mother on the couch. And then they stayed in the house with them for days.

They've both been convicted now. He's in jail for the rest of his life. She's serving 45 years. The child, as far as I know, was put up for adoption.

wintersault

Last winter I was in a local dive playing scrabble with a lady friend. Just us, the bartender, and two dudes drinking at the far end of the bar. This place is in a not great area of a not so great city, so the door stays locked unless someone knocks and is allowed to come in.

At around midnight, someone starts banging on the door; when the door is finally opened an older man shows us a guy lying on the sidewalk a few feet away, he is obviously in bad shape, breathing shallow, mumbling. The bartender and I get closer, and realize the shirt underneath his jacket is sopping wet, soaked in blood. 911 is called, and because it is freezing outside, we sort of lift/drag him into the bar.

He cant move but is looking around, trying to talk; we lift his t-shirt up to see a little hole, the size of a pencil, above his left nipple. Though there is a lot of blood on his shirt, no blood is coming out of the little black hole. we get (clean) rags from the bar and some dish gloves, and hold the towels on the hole. No one knows any meaningful first aid in this situation, other than keep him warm and talk to him. 15 agonizing minutes go by, still no EMS. My friend is outside, sees an ambulance go past on the next street, tries to get their attention. Another ten minutes later, after a period of intense eye contact, he wets himself and stops breathing. There is nothing we can do; I realize later he must have been bleeding internally. We sit and wait, with his corpse. Almost thirty minutes later, the police arrive, asking where the ambulance is. After hanging out and making bad jokes for a bit, they lift him by the arms and legs and try to figure out how to jam him in the squad car to get him to the hospital.

I had a hundred dollar bill in my wallet, I give it to the bartender and the five of us drink quietly for the next two hours while detectives and more cops eventually show up and treat us like shit. "Fuck the police" is played on the internet jukebox.

The summer before that, I left the house with the dog for a sunday walk, and lo, the street has been blocked off, tons of cops, ems, etc. I hadn't heard any commotion from inside as I was deep in the basement with headphones on, but I soon see a boy in a minivan has crashed into a tree a few houses down. A low speed crash, he had been shot in the head, some gang shit. Slumped over the wheel, red all over. All the neighbors kids are running around crying outside, they finally put a sheet over the car.

A few years before that, I saw an elderly man drop out of a third story window of a burning building. He was waving from the window for a while, then without warning just dropped himself out and fell like a sack of potatos.

edit: I forgot the weird guy who slashed himself with razors. Walking to the store one evening, I see a crowd at the corner. I was considering turning around, didnt want to walk through some situation, but when I got closer saw a man rolling around in literally a huge puddle of blood, talking gibberish. He had sliced his arms to ribbons. EMS was there fast, and after he was packed up, I heard a cop mention dealing with him before, that he had set himself on fire the week before.

Another time I woke up early and left my apt. to find a man, dead and frozen on the sidewalk. It was a terribly cold winter, and he had taken off his shoes and socks, had very light clothes on. Drug related? Who knows.

I saw the aftermath of some horrific car accidents as well.

What sticks in my mind most are things from when I was younger though- getting off a bus by myself when I was about 10, and turning around to watch the passengers get off, I see this young girl, about 6? trip at the top of the bus steps and fall head forward, landing squarely on her face. She lifts her head up silently, and as she starts to wail I can see she has knocked all her front teeth out. Her mouth and nose are a bloody crushed mess. Her mom gets off behind her, yanks her up by the arm and starts yelling at her. I turn away.

The earliest thing I remember, I am probably about 4, on my moms hip in the checkout line in the grocery store. I am staring at the baby in a cart thing behind us. While I am staring at the baby, I notice a big fat spider descending on a thread, right over the baby's face. As I watch for what seems like an eternity, it finally lands right on the babys cheek and crawls across its face. I remember being frozen; like there was this "threat", but not being able to alert the adults.

heil_hitlol

Back when I was in High School, I was hanging out with friends on his drive way after a day of skating around the neighborhood. He lived in a Cul De Sac in a pretty suburban part of Los Angeles. Generally it was really quiet in the area, as it was a Cul De Sac and not very densely populated. However that one night, we hear tires screeching around the area. We did not think much of it as street racers came around the area since there were not too many people around. We then saw headlights rushing down the Cul De Sac followed by another pair. The two cars stopped right in front of his house with us in the drive way, one in front of the other. Almost as soon as the two cars stopped, we saw a flash and a muffled POP from the first cars cabin. The teenage boy inside had shot himself in the head. The car behind him was his father chasing after his son.

Apparently the son was running away from an abusive home and the father was chasing him down. The father had just watched his son shoot himself, and unfortunetly so did we.

We really did not know what to do or think we were so shocked.

coderob

Drunk guy hit a couple Hells Angels bikes and knocked them over. They started chasing him and he sped up to 150 KM/h +. I was sitting at the intersection when I saw another car with 5 young people making a left turn. I didn't see how the accident happened but heard it. He hit them SO hard head on that a guy in the backseat flew out of the drivers window and the drivers legs were crushed. I ran up the the nearest car and opened the door, it REEKED of alcohol, so I slammed the door shut and ran to the guy laying on the street.

Then the ambulance showed up and went the the drunks car, my friends got their attention and got them to help the other people first. I noticed the guy on the ground had a HOLE in his head, so as I was holding his brains in I watched the paramedics try to give CPR to a girl in the back seat. She died before they got her out.

My friends and I all booed as we watched the DRUNK fucker WALK to his ambulance.

I read in the paper later that week, three men in biker outfits rushed the drunks room in the hospital and stabbed him multiple times killing him. No one was arrested for that murder. I guess the girl in the backseat that died was related to a biker.

[deleted]

JayDogSqueezy

It's not the most gory or nasty thing I've witnessed, but it leaves a cold place in my heart.

Middle school was a rough few years for me, everyone was awkward and some people were cruel. One of the worst things I've seen in my life was a 7th grader carrying the obligatory box of candy bars or some such thing for a club fundraiser. We were passing down a narrow stairway during passing time, trudging along like zombies in the darkened stairway. I'm not certain if he stumbled or if he was pushed, but a few seconds later he was at the bottom of the stairway with a bloody nose and broken glasses.

His fundraiser box was empty and upside down. There were candy bars scattered everywhere, and his manilla envelope containing weeks worth of dollar bills and loose change was spilled all over the floor. And just like a horde of zombies, our classmates swarmed in on him, the easy target. Within a few seconds, all the money, all the candy was gone and kids scattered with their loot.

And this kid was left bleeding, with broken glasses, no more candy to sell, no money to turn in and a presumed debt for the merchandise he lost. He had a miserable story to tell his parents, who would likely be furious about the expense of all of the above, and his Dad would come to the conclusion that his son was defenseless and disrespected. And he learned the lesson at an early age that people are selfish, your associates can turn on you in a heartbeat, and bad things happen to ruin your day for no reason at all.

A close second: I assisted with the facial reconstruction of a 60 year old alcoholic who turned a shotgun on himself. 5 hours of surgery in the middle of the night to rebuild his jaw and suture his facial lacerations. He died of heart failure the next day.

I still think the middle schooler was worse. I hope he turned out ok.

zorak8me

Lets see if I can condense this...the event that sticks with me is very Lord of the Flies w/bonus betrayal. Cue the dramatic music - it was the day any childhood innocence left us. When I was 12 or 13 my friend James was going to fight some kid from the next neighborhood but the kid never showed up. So we had 30 or 40 kids wanting to see a fight, but no fight to be had. Keep in mind these are mostly wannabe hardcore badass gated-community golf course suburban kids that have seen a few fights but no real violence. One kid Al (big, mean mofo, the only one that had was REALLY violent) wanted to make an example out of someone so he talked James into tricking our friend Tony to come out to the park. So James went to Tony's house and told him there was going to be a fight and he needed Tony to get his back. James and Tony lived on the same street and had been friends for years, and Tony was the kind of guy you could always count on, so the ruse was perfect. When they got back to the park Al ran out from his hiding place in the bushes and knocked Tony out with his first punch. Then he started kicking him in the chest and head. Only one guy had the balls to run up and stop Al, which probably saved Tony's life. When we helped Tony up and walked him home he couldn't talk, he just had this terrible moaning sound that I still can't shake. Tony ended up in the hospital for a week, lost hearing in one ear, and had memory problems. He went from a confident honor-roll kid to barely graduating high school and dealing. As far as I know he still hasn't recovered from his injuries (mental or physical). I can't remember doing anything in our large neighborhood group after that. James never really got over what he did to his friend, and everyone else still (correctly) blames themselves for not stopping it. Anyway, that might not seem that fucked up in comparison to other stories, but for some reason it is the one that sticks out.

climateoffear

This in no way even challenges the submitter's story, but from ages 10 - 15, I lived in Jakarta, Indonesia and played baseball in a Little League with various other expats and rich Indonesians. One of the baseball fields we played at was in the middle of the city, a huge complex that housed baseball fields, basketball courts, soccer fields, and the soccer stadium. For those familiar with Jakarta, it was Senayan.

They had just added this new concession / administrative building on the Saturday that I was there. The walls and floor were this pure ivory white color, you could still smell the paint on the walls and the caulk in the floor. As we were gathering equipment to leave, we heard an Indonesian woman yell and two men start scurrying away. She was screaming about her cell phone, and at this point in time, cell phones were not prevalent and not cheap. Without hesitation, a group of younger, non-rich Indonesian men gathered and split into two to pursue the men. One group chased one of the men, the other group caught the other guy. The one guy got chased across the field, over a fence and out into a busy street, where he was hit by a car. The posse jumped the fence behind him, ran into the street and beat the man to a pulp. I don't know what happened to him.

The other man was caught and drug into the concession / admin building. The posse repossessed the cell phone and gave it back to the woman. She gave them 100,000Rp. (at that time, about $50, now it's roughly $10) and they conversed briefly. The paid man disappeared into a storage shed and came back out with a pair of wire cutters. He went into this building's foyer where the guy was being held down by the other people in the group and took the wire cutters to this guy's eyes. Thirty seconds later, his eyeballs were on the floor and he was bleeding profusely. The one thing I remember with incredible vividness is the color of his blood against the white of the tiles and the wall.

At this point, my parents got us out of there but I did know people who stayed there. According to them, the police showed up and talked to the posse, who eventually shook hands with them and parted ways. The medics also showed up, and took their time while this guy died of shock and blood loss on the floor.

TL;DRPosse catches two thieves, chases one into moving and traffic and cuts the eyeballs from the other one.

sano68w

I had several fucked up experiences and sights as a 68w in my 6 years serving in the army, but the one experience I remember the most is the one that originally made me want to become a medic in the first place.

It was my junior year in high school, so I was 17. I was living in a small town east of Dallas and despite it being winter, it's rare for it to snow or freeze around there. But there was some winter storm system that had moved through and left a few mm of snow...so being Texas the whole town seemed to shutdown in a panic, which was cool because the school was let out early.

My good friend (we'll call him Jim) had come home with me from school and we decided to head over to another friend's house to play some games and eat. The roads were wet, but there were no signs of ice, so we figured 'fuck it, we're good'. As we're going down a 2-lane highway, I see a pickup going the opposite way lost traction on its back wheels and they skidded outward, aiming the truck into our lane of traffic (we were still a good 100ft back at the time but there were other vehicles on the road). I remember breathing in and everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the truck swerved into our lane and right into a 2nd pickup that was in front of us, sending them both off the road. One of the drivers must have avoided the full head on collision but I don't know who or how it happened.

The truck that had swerved rolled over once then stopped upside down against a barbed wire fence about 20 ft from the side of the road. Neither Jim nor I has any real first aid training at the time, but I pulled over and we hopped out. I ran to the truck that had been in front of us and the guy seemed dazed but surprisingly alright. Jim just started cussing and holding his hands to on his head looking at the other pick-up. I came over and there was a guy pinned in the driver seat by the steering wheel and was severely bleeding, I tried to open the door with no luck and kicked out the driver window instead, I couldn't get any reaction from him and that's when I saw the large hole in the windshield. The other male passenger had been thrown through the windshield and looked like had landed head first on the pavement then skidded off the road, his head was wide open and there was a mess of gore on the edge of the pavement nearest him. I told Jim to go get my phone from my truck and call 911, while I tried get the driver out, but his eyes were wide open, the steering wheel had crushed his ribcage, at least he went quick. That's when I realized someone else was in the truck. I heard soft sobs and saw a girl in the back. I recognized her have whispered "Krystal?!" I had actually had been in a class with her, and she was a really nice, pretty girl. One of her arms was bent backwards, there was a nasty gash across her forehad, and blood all over. She was still buckled in to the backseat of the upside down vehicle. Seeing her in that state hit my state of mind like a mac truck, and I nearly broke down right there. She recognized me and whispered my name like a question, and I somehow held it together. I couldn't get passed the driver, so I managed to get the passenger door open and climbed in to help her get loose, she was shivering and sobbing and it just shook me to my core. I got her out of her seatbelt and we managed to crawl out of the truck, with me pulling her most of the way. Once outside I could see she was bleeding badly from torso wounds down her left side as well as her badly broken left arm. Jim was back from calling 911, but he just sat on the ground about 10 yards away and just watched in almost a trance. I took of my coat and put it around her, and not knowing shit about treatment, just started talking to her, telling her help was on the way and it was going to be alright. It was around 30 degree outside and she put her good arm around me saying she was cold. I just kept saying it was going to be alright and a couple minutes later, her head kind of falls toward me. I started crying for the first time in years and calling her name.

After what seemed like hours an ambulance finally showed up and they rushed over to get her. They said she had a pulse and I felt like a complete fucking moron for not trying cpr or something, but with her chest wounds and my lack of knowledge, it probably would have caused more problems. I was interviewed by the police and then Jim and I went back to my truck and went back to my house. I heard the next day that she died in the ambulance.

Jim and I never told anyone at the school about being there, I don't know if the families knew, but I didn't tell anyone for years. I kept looking back thinking there was something I could have done if I would have had some medical knowledge. I ended up joining the Army after high school and became a combat medic probably solely because of this experience.

I found this article talking about the accident. http://www.lubbockonline.com/stories/020702/upd_LD0674-7.shtml

tashbarg

It was the fourth of January and it was freezing cold outside. The street had a one inch thick layer of ice on it and no one drove. Hell, even walking was difficult. I was 19 and still lived with my parents (just before college).

It was at 4 in the morning and somehow I was awake. Lying in my bed and listening to my father snore through two bedroom doors. He always was a very loud snorer. How my mother could sleep next to him I don't know. My father got diagnosed with throat cancer a year ago and was treated with everything they had. It seemed to help and hearing him somehow comforted me, gave me some hope.

I hear my father cough, and then cough louder. Then a loud shout "Oh god, blood". My mother sleepily calling out my dads name, than a lot of rumble and footsteps on the stairs. I jumped out of bed and slipped in jeans and a pullover. As I got out of my room, I saw that most of the floor was covered with blood. I looked in my parents bedroom and found it mostly red. The blankets, the carpet, even the wall, everywhere blood.

I ran downstairs, following a trail of blood, as fast as I could to find my mother and my father in the kitchen. They crouched on the floor and my mother held a dish under my fathers head. At first, I thought he was vomiting, but then I realized he just bled very, very mean out of his mouth. Doctors later told us, that a main blood vessel in his throat somehow ruptured and all the blood which normally should have gone to his brain exited through his mouth or, worse, got swallowed. Later, when my brother and me emptied the dish, there was at least half a gallon of blood in it.

I recognized my brother entering kitchen, seeing what was up, and calling 911. Meanwhile, I tried my best to comfort my father, keep him warm and at the same time, put a cold towel in his neck. I don't know if that helped or if it was just his declining blood pressure, but it slowed down a little.

After a few minutes of silence, we all watching my father slowly losing consciousness while a constant stream of blood is coming out of his mouth, I decide to go out to catch the ambulance. I ran down the road, constantly sliding on the thick ice, to the next big street. We lived on a hill and the road was really steep. I got down by moving hand over hand along the garden fences. When I arrived at next intersection I saw a car coming from a few blocks away. The driver slammed down the pedal and headed towards me at high speed (considering there was no road but only ice). I'm still wondering how he got up that hill, but somehow he made it. It was one of the volunteer first-helpers of our town who was alarmed by 911 and I still pay my respect to this man.

A few minutes later the ambulance came. I showed them an alternate path to our house since the hill was too steep for such a big wagon. Arriving at our house, the medics took care of my unconscious but alive father.

After endless waiting at the hospital we got told, that he will make it and we can visit him in the afternoon. We drove home and put my completely disturbed mother to our neighbours. Then, my brother and me started to clean the house of the blood of my father. It took us several hours and my brother nearly fainted all the time (since he has problems with seeing blood - but he insisted to help) but we made it.

This morning, scrubbing my fathers dried blood from the floor and the walls, was the most fucked up moment in my life. The water in our buckets was red all the time and we barely talked. We both tried to figure out where live will take us from now on.

My father barely survived that night. They could do nothing for him but fill his throat with tamponade and hope that it heals by itself. It did. After one week on intensive care, they said he could go home. We took him home, and had a great evening. We watched Shrek on DVD and all laughed and had fun. That was the last time my father was at home. Later that night, it all started again. He sneezed, something ruptured and the bleeding started.

He survived again. After that, he was never alone again. Either my mother, or my brother and me was with him. We took turns with sleeping at the hospital. A week later, the day before he was allowed to go home again, the nurse on the night shift woke us (my brother and me) up. Something was wrong and we should call our mother.

Our father was in his bed and snored. But the frequency got slower and slower and nothing could wake him up. We sat there, waitet for our mum und listened to the decreasing snoring of our father. After a few minutes, he stopped breathing. Minutes later, our mother arrived.

jaxup

About 8 years ago I was in a car accident. It was in the middle of the winter during a snowstorm. I had gone with my sister to pick up some of her friends from the bus station. We were in a minivan, and I was sitting behind the driver's seat. I had drifted off to sleep when the accident happened, and was unconscious/in shock for a long time after, so I have no memory of how things unfolded. The only snapshot that I have of being in the car after it happened is looking over and seeing that the seat that had been beside me had been pushed up between the 2 front seats, and somebody screaming. The girl who was in the seat that was beside me wound up dying in the hospital later. That snapshot is sort of a haunting image for me, but it doesn't bother me any more. I am glad I don't remember anything else though.

davie6

Worked at a hospital at one time and an elderly lady came in the ER saying that she had a vine growing out of her privates. We all thought that she had alzheimers. Come to find out she DID have a vine growing out of her vagina. After all was said and done, she did have alzheimers. She had put a potato in her vagina thinking it would make a baby. Some time later, with moisture and heat, the potato grew a vine out of her vagina. That was the STRANGEST thing that I have ever seen.

abakedapplepie

on occasion i work with my father who is an industrial electrician. we were doing the whole building over from scratch for a new metal shop, i was in a lift about 50 feet up hanging conduit from the ceiling while my father was disconnecting the 480v 3-phase mains from the building. next thing i know, i hear a terrible, terrible moaning noise coming from below me. the building owner, a family friend (lets call him fred), was on the ground helping us. my father had managed to ground himself through his left arm on the metal service box, i guess his socket slipped and he let one leg of the 3-phase service through his right hand, across his chest, and out the left arm. i had to watch most of the scene unfold while helplessly atop this lift, but fred was there. he recognized what was going on and immediately ran over to my dad, ripped the ladder out from underneath him and my father tumbled down 10 feet or so, landing on a very large and uneven pile of tools, toolboxes, parts, pipes, you name it. by this time i was on the ground calling 911 and fred began chest compressions. my fathers heart had stopped, but he was still trying to breath. to this day the sound coming from his throat still haunts me, it sounded so pathetic and helpless. within minutes he was no longer breathing, there was foam in his mouth, his eyes were lifeless and his skin was turning purple. fred continued cpr and miraculously my dad came to and by the time the paramedics arrived my dad was trying to let us let him get up and walk around. he stayed in the hospital overnight and the next morning we went back and finished the job.

[deleted]

chris8185

When I was in college at the University of Georgia my large group of friends and I would make our way down to the Georgia vs. Florida American football (hand-egg) game in Jacksonville, Florida. This game is also known as the "World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party". The rivalry is very heated between University of Florida and University of Georgia fans. I never got into the rivalry. I was always a participant because of the girls and the parties.
Well, this particular year UGA ended up losing the game and we were making our way back up to Georgia on the interstate. I was driving. Along the way, and without warning, the car in front of me swerved off the road to the left and I was staring at a stopped vehicle approximately 75 yards in front of me. We were going 70mph and I stomped the brake with both feet. My car skidded and miraculously swerved left without me turning the steering wheel and we skidded about five yards passed the stopped vehicle. After the shock of the sudden stop wore off I looked up to see what had stopped traffic on the interstate. There was an accident in the left-most lane of the highway with parts of the vehicle strewn out into the left shoulder. It must have just occurred since there were no emergency vehicles on the scene. There seemed to be only one vehicle involved and it was flipped over and crushed. Suitcases and clothing were everywhere. There were five people trapped in the vehicle. Bloodied and in need of serious help. I drove our car down closer to the accident and instead of seeing concerned citizens helping the injured I instead saw some University of Florida fans slowly driving by chanting their fight song at the injured! The upturned vehicle had UGA magnets and stickers and the people passing by weren't helping them because of their college football allegiance! My three friends and I rushed out to see if we could help the injured. We were able to get the rear passenger door open and two of the girls out of the damaged vehicle. Eventually, more people showed up to help and we managed to get all the girls out and pulled to safety. Two of the girls were bleeding badly. One of them had a forearm that was snapped in half. The EMTs arrived and took over. I will never forget the day that I saw a stupid team allegiance trump human compassion.

OneTripleZero

Not a story of mine, but the story of a co-worker's friend, told to me (so second hand):

The person in question was a first-responder for vehicle accidents for the coroner's office in a town next to the one where I lived. He had been called out to a run-of-the-mill telephone pole collision, and upon reaching the site he found the driver dead in his seat. No trauma, buckled in, no open alcohol, nothing. They removed the car from the pole, loaded the corpse up and took it in for an autopsy.

Once they had the body laid out on the table, they opened his shirt and were confronted with probably the nastiest bruise he or anyone there had seen. It was an angry purple and covered most of the dead guy's chest. When they opened him up, they found out where it had come from: the guy had been moving so fast when he hit the pole, and decelerated so quickly, that the weight of his heart moving forward in the impact had ripped his aorta open, almost all the way off. Most of the blood in his body had poured into his chest cavity, killing him in seconds. Apparently the two of them (guy and his assistant) just sat there, staring. He said he'd never seen anything like it before or since.

china_rider

Not sure which was worse:

1) First time I ever went to Vegas we were staying downtown. We had a cheep room at the Golden Gate. After gambling all night we head to the GG diner for the $2.99 steak breakfast. We sat at a table that was next to a window that overlooked the Plaza casino. We are about 1/2 way through breakfast and all of a sudden someone yells out "He's going to jump!" We look out the window and notice a man 1/2 way out a suite window on the top floor. A few moments later he throws himself out the window and we unfortunately watch him drop around 15 or 20 floors and smash into the concrete. It was a bloody mess.

2) When I was about 12 years old living in Colorado Springs I was walking in the downtown area. At some point I was waiting for a light to change so I could cross the street. Once the light changes I step into the street not really paying attention. At the same time A bicyclist enters the intersections. The next thing I know a stranger grabs the back of my shirt and pulls me back onto the sidewalk. At that same moment a car runs the red light and plows into the cyclist. The cyclist goes into the windshield and then bounces over the car. When he landed his legs were obviously crushed and his head was cracked open with blood gushing out and chunks of what looked like brains all over the street.

Vietrmx

When I was pretty young (I can't remember the age specifically), I saw a collision on an interstate, both buses. I'm guessing the bus in front stopped unexpectedly, because the other bus rammed into the back of the front bus, and launched the driver halfway out the window. When my mom and I drove by, we could see the driver of the bus hanging over the front of the bus with glass shards littered everywhere and blood running down in streams. Me being very young, my imagination went wild and I started to imagine what it would feel like to have my torso punctured by the huge shards of glass in the windshield.

Pretty horrifying for me then, though I'm over it now.

gr33nspan

Some time around the middle of my deployment in Iraq (still here, less than a month left to go), I was at an Iraqi Police station when one of the IP trucks pulled in with a blanket covering something on the bed accompanied by a sobbing man. His wife apparently triggered a roadside bomb in the area probably meant for my convoy that drove to that station on a daily basis. When the carcass was uncovered, I saw a halved body that revealed a mix of burned skin and entrails at the bottom. The fucked up thing is my only immediate thought was whether or not it would offend the husband if i took a picture. I ended up not taking one.

mother_fake_acc

My mother grew up in kind of an old world aristrocracy sort of family. She told me that when she was young, she was always sternly told not to cry in front of the servants. When she got a bit older, she wasn't to play with the "peasant" children, so she could only really be friends with her cousins.

All in all she was quite a loner. Although she had the social skills for good surface interaction, she never really formed deep attachments well. And in fact, despite being very successful (career in science, followed by career in medicine), her life was kind of joyless. After she and my dad divorced, she settled down to a life of work, me and my brother, and lots of cats.

My brother and my mum had a lot of the stereotypical sort of friction, and in my teenage years I kind of drifted away. I started smoking weed a bit, and that helped to foster the adversarial sort of defensive secrecy that's fairly normal in teenagers anyway. At any rate, she had few people in her life as it was, and her relationship with her sons wasn't really deep or fantastic. There was a substantial generation gap (she had us in her early 40s, and grew up in a behind-the-times culture), and she was a hard person to relate to very deeply regardless.

All this added up to a life that was a little empty. When she was 62, and I was 19, she got a spinal fracture and started taking painkillers. One day the pain was particularly bad, and she ran out of the non-psychoactive painkiller she favoured --- and there, in the medicine cabinet, was a box of pethidine.

Pethidine is an opiate, which means that it metabolises into much the same sort of thing as morphine and heroin. The difference is that the hit is less acute, and there are other metabolites that create toxicity problems with prolonged use, and generally complicate matters. It's really a nasty drug to get addicted to --- not very fun at all. But the recipe for addiction --- the empty life, the availability of self-prescription, the slippery slope --- were all there.

Her health deteriorated rapidly. Her health was generally poor, due to a variety of issues, but it was impossible to question her. She was a doctor, and secretive about personal matters. I did notice something was up. At one point she developed a pretty distinctive odour. Later I learned this was a fungal infection. I kind of just retreated into denial and video games and smoked more weed.

After about six months of this it all came to a head. I found a box of pethidine, and finally it all clicked into place. But, I was spared any awkward confrontation --- my brother called me within a few hours, and told me that mum had been checked into rehab. She'd been confronted by the medical board for her heavy prescriptions of pethidine, and they'd blocked her ability to prescribe it. She collapsed at work from withdrawal two days later.

Watching her go through rehab was the most fucked up thing I'd seen at the time. We visited every day. Every day we'd go with her to the canteine, and she'd try to order yogurt, but every day she couldn't remember the word for it. Maybe it was the valium they had her on.

She got through rehab okay, although the damage to her pride and her life was immense. She was sued because the whole ordeal prevented her from fulfilling some prior agreements. The court case was a difficult complication, but we got through that.

It took a long time before things were right. There were lots of fucked up little incidents. At one point, one of the cats started shitting in the house. She'd recently euthenised an extremely elderly cat --- almost 20 years old --- with an insulin injection. She decided that it was time for Sparky to go too. What else could she do, she argued? Nobody would take a 12 year old cat that was doing this, and if we sent her to the RSPCA the endgame would be the same, but with a lot of trauma for the cat in the meantime. So she got the insulin OD too. I was overcome by a kind of morbid curiosity so I went outside after a few hours to see whether she was alive. I pulled back the blanket a little. She was cold to the touch, but just breathing. Then she kind of heaved in a little convulsion. It was very creepy.

Mum got back on her feet as best she could, and after two or three years life was more or less normal, although her pride would never recover, and she'd never really exit the deep depression over what had happened. I moved out on my own. I knew that'd be hard for her, but I was 24, and I wasn't going to build a life of regrets out of a sense of duty.

The next year I was overseas when my brother called me and told me mum had had a heart attack. Or maybe a stroke, they weren't sure. He'd found her on the floor next to her bed, delirious. It was the most fucked up thing he'd seen, finding her like that.

While I was still overseas, the truth emerged: it was a suicide attempt. For one reason or another (the truth still isn't clear), the medical board decided mum wasn't complying properly with their restrictions, which included submitting twice weekly urine samples. It seems there was some irregularity. Maybe she really was cheating; nobody now knows. At any rate, they decided to deny her right to practice. So mum found herself at 67, with little savings (despite a high salary she'd been bankrupted twice --- she never learned to manage money), unable to work.

She hid this us for a while, through inertia and shame. She told us she was taking a long holiday off work, as she was tired. Eventually she ran out of money, and decided that she had no other choice. She was tired, and could not see what she had to live for. She had a variety of health problems that made daily life quite uncomfortable. Most of all, becoming a burden on me and my brother was strictly out of the question to her.

She explained all this to me when I got back. She'd said for a long time that she didn't want to grow old into senility. This is why she never saved for a retirement: her retirement plan had always been, explicitly, suicide. My brother and I never really talked about that --- it was kind of awkward. We always assumed she'd feel differently when the time came. But now the time had come, and even if she wanted to, she'd left herself little leeway for a change of heart.

The psychologist's assessment at the hospital had been that her suicide attempt had been the result of a rational, deliberate decision, rather than an impulse due to acute depression. Mum told me that she hadn't changed her mind. Her only regret was that she had not succeeded.

I decided to accept her decision. It probably sounds cold. I guess it is. But I know I made the right choice. We spent a few weeks bonding, while she took care of a few practical matters, and my brother moved out. He had a lot more trouble accepting it, but he came around too. The alternative was what? Suicide watch? Institutionalise her until her life...gets better? It just didn't make any sense.

Her previous O.D. had been on the last supply of pethidine she could drum up, and she had trouble getting more. Eventually she settled on an overdose of codeine pills. It sounded brutal, but she wouldn't consider anything else. So I said goodbye one Friday, and tried not to think about it over the weekend.

On I think the Tuesday my brother and I went back to the house. It was weird opening the door, not knowing what to hope for. We immediately went to her room. I think we'd both imagined we'd find her in bed --- that's how everyone wants to die, isn't it? --- but she wasn't there. So we walked all through that terrible mazey house, looking for her.

We found her in the kitchen, almost by accident. We were passing through to another room. She was lying next to the pantry, sprawled out amongst upset dishes of cat food. Her face...it wasn't the quiet kind of peaceful death you'd hope for when planning an overdose. It was the most fucked up thing I've ever seen.

religionisanger

When I was six years old, my mother got very depressed and then got pregnant (fuck knows what my dad was doinging boning a woman in that state). She was in and out of hospital for both the depression and the baby until it got to march when she was born. My mother struggled to bond with my sister due to postal natal depression.

On Christmas eve she took me and my sister shopping. We got to the train station and my mom looked at me, smiled and then took a step backwards onto a train track where a train hit her very suddenly, I remember people running to the accident. I didn't say a word but walked home carrying my sister. My selfish bitch of a mom died of brain damage on Christmas eve 1991. Most if not all of the memories I have of my mom are deeply repressed and I never talk about it, I just remember her smile looking quite sinister and almost manic. I've probably only cried about the incident once or twice in my life... I'll never forget that fucking grin though.

Blue_Knight_Rules

I used to work as an EMT-Tech in a trauma center in Atlanta. One night an older gentleman was rushed in with an ice pick sticking out of his chest right above his heart. As I was cutting off his clothes and taking off his shoes he suddenly regained consciousness, and grabbed my arm with a cold hand that had surprising strength, looked deep into my eyes and said: "Clara did it, please tell them." He then convulsed and flatlined. CPR didn't help and he was confirmed dead within a few moments.

Later on, I had to give an official statement to homicide detectives as I had handled his body and disrupted what was now part of a crime scene. I told them how I had cut off his clothing and then about what he had said. The detective looked at me with piercing eyes: "Are you sure that's what he said?" "Yes."

Turns out Clara was his wife who came with him to the hospital. I later learned that she claimed he had been stabbed when someone broke into their home looking for cash. Had this man not said this to me, his wife maybe (and I say maybe because I'm sure she was the prime suspect anyway) could have gotten off without punishment.

Later that year I was called as a witness in her murder trial. My statement help solidify her case, and she's now serving up to 25 years for manslaughter.

TL;DR - I worked in a hospital, guy came in with an ice pick sticking out of his chest, the guy grabbed my arm and told me his wife was the murderer, I gave a statement at her trial and now she's serving time.

bahbahusername

When I was 17 I was back from college for christmas(graduated high school a year early) and I was spending the night at my best friend's house. (She was a senior in high school at the time.) It was about midnight and we were getting ready for bed, so I went to the bathroom. I was sitting on the toilet and all of a sudden I realized someone was in the shower directly across from me. I stand up super fast and say "Oh sorry" and start to walk out, but as I was leaving I realized the water wasn't on and the person wasn't even moving. I just turn around and stared at the shower until it hit me. I walked into my friend's parents' room and just say "I think there's something wrong" and point at the bathroom.My friend's older brother was hanging from his belt on this metal bar near the window. The mom just started screaming and the dad carried the brother out and called 911. I didn't really do anything, I just felt really sick. And my friend never said anything, she just put her fingertips on her mouth and kept picking at her nails for like 3 hours. My parents picked me up that night and tried to talk to me about it but I couldn't talk about it. And for the longest time I just kept picturing the body through the glass, it was so creepy, especially since I'd known her brother for 10 years.

ironfroggy_

I see a lot of stories about terrible deaths or painful injuries or chemically induced generally bad-things-done. People can be terrible without a drop or chemical or blood.

When I was in highschool, maybe a freshman, my sister stayed home sick one day. I got off the bus and started walking home, but only got a short bit of the way before my stomach felt like it dropped out of my body, when I saw the police cars, and my mother's car, at my house. I didn't run and I was freaking out. I was sure I had done something wrong. Had they found something of mine? I didn't think I had anything I could be in trouble for, or had done anything. Maybe I forgot or didn't know something was illegal. I thought of all the improbable reasons I could be about to get arrested. Of course, I worried about my sister and that something could have happened to her, too. Truth was I had no idea.

My mother met me outside and I knew my sister wasn't hurt, because she wasn't crying or anything. I knew I wasn't in trouble, either. She took me inside to tell me what happened. My sister, who was probably 12 or 13 at the time, had woken later in the morning, sleeping off the flu or whatever she had. She woke, under her covers, hearing noises in her room. She peaked out from under them and saw a man looking through her things. Her clothes, her closet, etc. She recognized him. It was our mother's boyfriend's brother, who had always been a little creepy and, well, really really "nice" to my sister. Too nice. He was planting porn in her room. I don't know why. Maybe he wanted her to get ideas.

To this day, when I drive past his house visiting town, I wonder what I would do if he was walking across the street.

lebruf

Pranks. Sometimes people take them too far, and in this case (about 13 years ago) my friend Dave crossed the line. We lived next door to each other in the dorms, and it was seriously like those spy vs spy cartoons from Mad Magazine.

I would fill a little desk trashcan full of water and lean it against his door, knock, and wait for him to open the door to a mini tidal-wave. He got me back by filling a Fed-Ex envelope full of shaving cream, slipping the open end under the door and dropped a stack of books on it splattering the foamy mess all over the room and carpet.

Then I got him back by tying his doorknob to the pipe across the hall so he had to get out of his room by climbing out the 2nd story window, and he proceeded to wedge coins between my door jamb and my door whilie it was shut, effectively locking me into the room.

So I decided to get a can of tuna, open it halfway and left it under a pile of clothes in his closet until he finally noticed the stench 1 week later. He tried to get with some icy-hot in the crotch of my briefs, but I dodged that bullet.

His coup de grace came on the last day of school when I was packing my stuff to go home. I had about 5 or 6 boxes I was going to leave in storage at my Aunt's home over the summer so I went home, and came back in late August to get my stuff from her since school was starting again.

She told me that one of the boxes was particularly stinky, but that she hadn't bothered to open it up. I opened it up and the most putrid smell was coming from inside. After removing the upper half of the contents, I found it. Dave had shit into a sandwich bag, and threw it in there with all my snowboarding gear.

I could not wash the smell out of anything, not with vinegar, bleach, nothing would work. I had about $500 worth of good snowboard clothing that looked fine, functioned fine, but I had to throw away because it smelled like poo that had sat in 100+ degree weather for the past 3 months.

Oh... and I did get him back. Dave and I were still friends (I'm a pretty forgiving guy, AND he bought me new stuff) but he was on his study abroad in Panama. He and I would exchange letters maybe once a month, so in one of my letters I "seasoned" it... that is to say, I trimmed off a ton of my pubes and put them into the envelope with the letter.

Turns out that Dave was driving in a car with the windows open when he decided to open my letter, and apparently the pubes ended up going all over his face, his car... yeah - he knew he had it coming. Somehow, he and I are still great friends.

plj_jill

Thank you to all the cops, fire-fighters, EMTs, first responders, and hospital staff that deal with this kind of stuff frequently.

PushTheLittleDaisies

A friend's father and brother were waiting to turn left onto their street when a motorcyclist on the run from the cops sped into the car in front of them at over 100mph. The cyclist basically just exploded on contact and limbs and organs were strewn for yards all over this suburban development. The brother was only 14 years old when this happened, and it had a profound effect on him. It's the sort of thing that kids of our culture and generation just never see, outside of those in the military.

wikk3d

Honestly the most fuck up thing I have ever seen in my life is watching Cancer take my father this past year.

He found out about it only after being out of work for a month after falling out of his work truck. He saw multiple doctors for his bad back, no one could figure out what was wrong. About a month goes by and he starts to lose feeling in his lower torso. A few CT scans later and they find a mass in his lower back, another CT scan showed a mass in his lung. By the time they had found all this, he had basically lost the ability to walk. He was reduced to wearing diapers being unable to make it to the bathroom on his own let alone feel when or if he had to go. He spent almost an entire month sitting in a chair because it was the only possible way he could sleep through the pain.

About 2 weeks before he passed, he was admitted to the hospital where he began a roller coaster of symptoms that showed improvement, as well as further steps back. The worst part came when my mom called me to come home at around 8am from college. Being as I only go to school 45 minutes away, it was a reasonable drive. My father's health had crashed, he was on a ventilator. They did everything they could to try and bring his BP up and it worked. Unfortunately, 2 days later they realized that there was no hope because the medicine was beginning to show no signs of improvement. We had to let him go that evening.

This all happened over the course of about 3-4 months. The most fucked up part was just seeing your own father, being supported by a machine, and realizing that he is not the one breathing, but something else is breathing for him.

liberty4u2

About 20 years ago was working in an ER the first year out of med school. Middle aged man comes in complaining of lower belly pain. I order a urine examination to be done to rule out a bladder infection. The lab calls and the lab tech tells me that something is really wrong with the urine but he is not sure what's wrong. The pain was pretty severe so I order a contrast dye study if the ureters to rule out kidney stone. The radiologist calls me and said that the mans bladder is full of something weird. That's it I call a urologist to come and see the patient. He procedes to take him to cystoscopy (a scope to look in the bladder). The urologist returns an hour later looking sick and reports that he found hunderds of earthworms (some still alive) in the mans bladder. Turns out that the man got his jollies by letting the little guys climb down his penis. There it is sorry for any typos did it on the iPhone.

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