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8 True-Life Encounters That Prove You’re Not Safe In Your Own Home

"To this day, I have never seen the look of fear and shock that was on his face when that woman turned and stared at both of us and slowly stood up with the knife."


A man’s home is his castle, right? Well it’s time to pull up the drawbridge and lock the gates because you aren’t safe even in your own home. Thanks to the internet, we’ve found the most horrific accounts of true life encounters that will leave you double checking every door and window tonight.

So remember, it’s not just Dorothy who believes there’s no place like home; murderers, rapists and lunatics also share that same belief too.


1. The Stranger Under My Bed

true life home encounters

Photo: Banalities / Flickr [CC]

I am 22 and this incident happened a year and a half ago. I had just moved into my first apartment and was in the process of moving in. The door that led into my apartment locks itself automatically when closed. So, I was going to the entrance of the apartment complex to get my mail while talking on the phone with my boyfriend. I returned to my apartment and sat on the bed while opening the mail while using the phone, I dropped the phone on the floor and it landed under the bed so I had to lie on the floor and stretch for it. I saw something that caught my eye, there was someone under my bed … My eyes widened and I choked the urge to scream. The person under my bed was lying still with his back towards me and his head to his chest, so I couldn’t see his face. And he didn’t see me, trying to be rational while so many thoughts rushed through my head, I picked up the phone, said “Sorry I dropped my phone, I’m just gonna take a shower and call you back.”

The bathroom is right by my bed so I hastily walked in, quietly locked the door, turned the shower on, jumped out my window (my apartment is on the first floor) and called the police. They told me to wait nearby, but to go to across the street and see if anyone comes out the door to the apartment complex. This was during summer and it was still light out, I placed myself across the street, hiding behind a car while watching my open bathroom window and the entry door. I called my boyfriend and he came to me just before the police. I gave them my keys and they went inside. Only moments later two cops came out holding a thin and tired looking man. His eyes looked crazy, but he didn’t try to get away. The policeman that had stood beside me and comforted me while the police searched through my house (I was a mess, shivering and crying) told me that the man stood outside my bathroom door with one of my kitchen knives waiting for me to come out.

This man had somehow crept in my entry door while I was getting my mail and hid under the bed. The man that was trying to hurt me turned out to be a homeless person and was placed in a mental hospital. My boyfriend moved in with me the very next day. — Myhra

2. Shush …

I had awesome parents who let me sleep in the living room on weekend nights when I was very young because my sister was a light sleeper and I could stay up until dawn. But of course I always end up sleeping on the couch because Nick At Nite made me tried.

So, one night I wake up to the prickly feeling. Like an instinct. Just bolted into a sitting position and stared out the front window. We lived in rural Georgia, so you can imagine the magnitude of trees. In perfect light cast from the moon, I see a silhouette of someone in this fucking tree. The family dog dashes to the window and is snarling into the glass.

Terrified, I run into my parents room and try to explain to my parents that there is a strange person outside. Dad grabs something defensive and darts outside with the dogs to beat the wax off the hot head. I tremble in Mama’s arms until Dad comes home and says he saw no one and to go to bed.

I decide to sleep in my regular bedroom. I fill in my sister in as to what happened. Dad is making regular rounds in the house with a cup of coffee. We’re all still and I finally think “I can sleep.”

Nope. I notice the man outside my window. From what I can see in the moonlight, he gives me a shush signal and runs away. Just turns around to run a straight line away.

I swear I couldn’t stop crying for what felt like hours. — SaintSparkles

3. Blood on the Floor

true life home encounters

Photo: darkday / Flickr [CC]

I’m a 22-year-old female, but at the time that this occurred I was about 17. I was in high school, and I lived with my mom and sister, who is two years younger than me. We also had a dog, big black shepherd chow mix named Marley. So my mom used to leave for work at 6:00 AM, and school started at 8:00 I think. Anyway, I was a senior about to graduate (almost summertime) so I would sleep in often, as my first couple of classes were just study halls, but my sister was a sophomore, so she always left at 7:45. I was home sleeping with Marley downstairs (or wherever).
Well, usually my sister would come home for lunch around 11:30 and wake me up, but on this day, Marley started crazy-dog barking. Not his usual barking at another dog outside, but really frenzied barking. I didn’t think TOO much about it, because hey, I was asleep, and we lived in an alright neighborhood, so I never had a reason to worry about anything. So I go back to sleep.

Next thing I know, my sister is shaking me awake. Our conversation went something like this:

Sister: “what the hell happened to the front door?” Me: “huh? oh I forgot to give you the key … sorry.” Sister: “NO it wasn’t locked. It was wide open, and the frame is cracked!”

So we go downstairs to look at what happened, and she was right, door frame broken, dent in front (battering ram style), and something she didn’t notice were the drops of blood all over the place. Then it all kind of came together in my head, Marley going ape-shit and all that. We go check him out and he’s kind of limping, and his eye was swollen. We decided to take him to the vet, and it turns out he had a couple broken ribs and was hit in the eye pretty hard. My dog saved me from someone with bad intentions that day. I don’t know what they broke in for, but they left with less blood. — lotus2289

4. I Used to Live By Myself, Or So I Thought

I never even met him, I didn’t know his name or face. I was, blissfully unaware, of his very existence.

I will never know why, or when it started. I’m glad for that I guess. I moved into my very small apartment in February last year. My landlord, Olivia, was a sweet older woman who would cook to much and bring me much appreciated leftovers. She was great to me, even after telling her my problem. I’m antisocial, but she didn’t mind renting to a reclusive young girl who reminded her of her daughter.

Every few weeks she would knock on my door then leave, letting me know she was leaving something for me. I loved that. Not even my family would cook so well. The next morning I wash and leave her empty containers outside my door and by an hour or so she would take them back again. My other neighbors seemed fine, but I never talked or visited with them.

I work from home so anytime I ever was forced to go out I rushed out and into my apartment avoiding an, uncomfortable situation. I loved living alone, it was everything I hoped for. I could just, breathe. By April though, I started noticing things were not right. They were moving, or plain disappearing. I was convinced it was just anxiety caused by my new medication and the move, another side affect was it would make me so drowsy. Since I hated seeing the doctor I just dealt.

I took naps during the day now and eventually stopped caring. Until one incident doubled my paranoia, Olivia brought me some sort of greek tossed salad and dressing for lunch one day and I enjoyed it with my friend Netflix. I fell asleep in the middle of Portlandia, and woke up that evening at 5pm. Per usual, what was not usual was my bedding on the opposite side of me was disturbed. I only sleep on the right side. Always. Even more it felt … warm. My first thought was I must have rolled around a lot, but I knew it was to odd to dismiss.

I got up and searched my apartment gripping my phone with 911 typed in. Nothing else was disturbed, everything was exactly like it should be. I let it go, for the next few weeks everything was normal pardon the occasional misplaced shoe or drawn back shower curtain. I thought about telling someone, my parents, maybe Olivia, but if it’s not life or death I am not reaching out to anyone.

I wasn’t scared, I was nervous, maybe a little stubborn … But I stayed. I am not letting some stupid anxiety ruin my lovely lonely world. May came and it was getting worse. My panties, toothbrush, hell even my food was being misplaced. Every time I woke up there was this strange odor in the air. I finally realized this won’t go away by ignoring it. I called my mom and begged to come stay a few days, when I got home I told them everything. Saying it out loud solidified any creepy suspicions.

That weekend my dad went to my apartment and what was found was true horror. Written all over that walls: “COME BACK” “BABY PLEASE” He ran out and called the police. There was no one living in my apartment but someone definitely had access besides me. The investigation revealed a man, Henry, the son of my landlord Olivia, was in a projected relationship with me.

They showed me his confession on tape. He admitted coming into my apartment every night and everyday with his mother’s extra key. He claims we were in love and he had my permission. He drugged his mother’s food she left out for me causing my drowsiness and falling asleep so he could come in and watch me sleep, touch my hair, kiss my shoulder. The leftovers I had in the fridge were tested and confirmed. I was absolutely, horrified and disgusted. A man, I never knew existed, collected my drain hair, clothes, and trash and practically lived in my apartment for four months. —Kimmiekissies

5. The Butcher Knife Lady

true life home encounters

Photo: blgrssby / Flickr [CC]

When I was really little my parents would let me stay up late on the weekends and watch TV until I fell asleep. I really loved these times and I would stay up later than anybody else just because I could. Well one night I was almost asleep on the couch when I heard a noise on our front porch. It was the sound of our old fashioned porch swing moving back and forth. I was a little scared so I crept toward the bay windows of my living room and peeked out towards the porch. Sitting on my front porch swing was an older woman, probably in her 50’s wearing nothing but a night gown, covered in blood and holding a huge kitchen knife.
I flipped out immediately and ran screaming into my parents room but was too terrified to form words. My parents saw that I was upset, but when I finally was able to tell them what I saw, my dad got really angry and told me that it was just a dream and to go back to bed. I refused and kept crying and screaming until he had had enough and snatched my arm and dragged me towards the front door to prove that nothing was there. I kicked and screamed all the way trying to make him stop, but he kept pulling me. Finally we got to the door, he unlocked it, swung it open and said “See theres nothing th–” To this day, I have never seen the look of fear and shock that was on his face when that woman turned and stared at both of us and slowly stood up with the knife.

My dad slammed the door shut and got my mom to call the police while he went and got his gun. He went back to the door with a 12 gauge and cracked the door enough to stick the barrel out. He asked her what she was doing and she said “Somebody killed my husband, but it wasn’t me.” My dad told her that the police were coming, and she freaked out, grabbed the knife and walked away. They police found her 15 minutes later trying to break into one of our neighbors houses.

I never slept in the living room again. —Octagonapus

6. Someone Comes Into Her House in The Middle of the Night

Okay, so this whole thing began maybe 2 months ago. At an aunt’s party my sister comes up to me and says that she thinks someone has been coming into her house in the middle of the night. My sister has always been easily scared, so at first I was skeptical.

I asked her how she knew someone had been in the house, whether she had actually seen anyone etc. She told me she hadn’t seen anyone, but she said she knows for a fact someone was in her house. She then went on to explain that she has a sky box downstairs that streams to her bedroom television. The first time it happened she said she heard the TV was being used, so she turned on her TV and someone was flicking through the channels.

I still didn’t really buy what she was saying, but she did seem genuinely afraid. She claimed it had been going on for three months on and off. To put her mind at ease, I told her I’d stay at her place for a few nights and wait to see if the guy comes, I took my younger brother along just to be safe.

In all, we stayed at her place for 4 nights. In those four nights, nothing unusual happened; me and my brother were convinced she was going crazy. Me and my brother decided we had stayed long enough and told her that we had to go home, she got extremely upset about this.

I reassured her and told her to call the police the next time it happened. She had called the police once before about the guy and they turned up to find no one was in the house. I said she could call me any time she wanted and left for work.

Two days later she called me at 11:30PM and claimed he was downstairs in her house right now. I asked her how she knew and she said he’s walking around the house, she was whispering and crying. I knew she wasn’t making this up, I could tell from her voice. I called my brother and told him to meet me at her house, I was on the phone with her the entire drive over to her place (I live 10 minutes away).

When I got there my brother was parked up outside. We both went to the back of the house (I was still on the phone with my sister). The first floor of the house was lit solely by the TV in the living room. As we approached the patio door we saw that a man was sitting on the couch facing us. We were frozen solid and my sister noticed that we went quiet and started asking what was wrong and if we could see him.

I told her to stay quiet and that we had it in hand, I then hung up and called the police to explain the situation. The guy hadn’t moved from the couch at all. The TV turned off while we were waiting for the cops, me and my brother majorly freaked out when it happened. We couldn’t see anything downstairs, then the hallway light turned on, meaning someone was on the stairs.

We opened the patio door and ran up the stairs and caught the guy with his ear to her door. We kicked the shit out of him and got my sister out of the house, he had a knife in his coat pocket.

The cops came maybe 10 minutes later (he could have killed her if he wanted too) which is fucking outrageous. It turns out the guy was one of our mom’s old boyfriends who had lived with us for a while in the 90’s. He had always been fond of my sister but we had never suspected it to be him, he hadn’t contacted any of us for nearly a decade.

My sister has moved back in with my mom and is undergoing therapy to get over what had happened. Our ‘step dad’ as he liked to call himself, was given three years in prison. We are doing are best to cut all ties with the man. —1hze34

7. Is Anna Here?

true life home encounters

Photo: Brooke Raymond / Flickr [CC]

This was about five years ago. My family was a week away from going on vacation to Virginia Beach from our place in Canada. We usually go there for a week in the summer to enjoy the beach and surrounding area.
This takes place before we leave.

I’m home alone hanging up laundry out in the backyard around 9 am and I leave the back door unlocked because what’s the worst that could happen? My backyard has gates that are already locked. So I’m waiting for the other load of laundry to finish in the washer before I hang it outside and decide to go play some xbox in my basement. At around 9:30, I hear my back door close. My house has one of those alarms that beeps whenever a door opens or closes, so I heard that too.

I thought it was my sister coming back from our neighbour’s place. Maybe I’ll ask her if she can hang up the next load, but why would she use the back door? What’s going on? Oh shit … is it … It was. I ran upstairs to see this dude standing in my hallway. Shorter, skinnier than I (I’m 15 at the time, about 5’10, 160 lbs, he’s older, about 5’8, 130-140). This is our exchange.

Me: “What’re you doing here?”

Him: “Is … Is Anna here?”

Me: “There’s no Anna here. What do you want?”

Him: “I was outside and Anna texted me and said I could come in but the front door was locked, so I tried the back”

Me: “I think you have the wrong house …”

Him: “Is this 120 [street next to mine]?”

Me: “No, this is 120 [my street]”

Him: “Oh … sorry man … I have the wrong house”

We shake hands, he puts his shoes on, exits through the back, hops my gate, which he breaks, and tears off in his car.

I ended up calling the police and told them the story of what happened. Their investigation came back with the information that there was indeed an Anna at 120 [street next to mine].

But she was six. —iWasteTimeAtWork

8. Why I Never Sleep By a Window

This is actually a story I’ve never actually told anyone before.

When I was about six or eight years old, I moved into a big house with my mom, dad, and three or four siblings (I have four little sisters and two little brothers, so I’m not sure how many were there at the time). We had one of those alarm systems that you arm at night so that if any doors or windows were opened, it would go off and after 10 seconds, if not turned off, the cops would show up.

One night, I fell asleep in the basement, wrapped up in a blanket. My dad was at work and wouldn’t be back until late that night, so my mother hadn’t set the alarm yet. Around 11:30 or so, I felt a chill from wind. I opened my eyes and froze; in front of me was a tall man, dressed in all black. I can’t say I remember what he looked like, but I do remember the wide grin he gave me. “Shhh,” he whispered, patting my head, “just go back to sleep.” I was so shocked and tired, I did just that. I never heard him enter, I never heard him leave, but when I woke up the next day, he was gone. When I woke up and didn’t see him, I just assumed I was dreaming, but then I noticed the basement window was wide open.

Since that night, I have trouble sleeping next to opened or unlocked windows or doors. —Awffulwafflez

Featured Photo: Raj Stevenson / Flickr [CC]