I had a neighbour friend who was not a mortician but embalmed his own wife.

When a friend of mine was a little kid, someone drove past, jumped out of their car, and ran over and grabbed him trying to kidnap him.

He was just confused about what the guy was even doing, but grabbed onto a chain-link fence and wouldn't let go, so the guy was yanking him and yelling at him to let go, but he was able to hold on. Eventually the guy gave up and ran back and sped away. While he was being yanked on the fence, he was worried because the ball he'd been playing with was rolling down the hill, and he was worried it would go somewhere he wouldn't be able to find it and he would lose his ball.

When the guy left, he went and retrieved his ball, psyched that he was able to get it back. He thought no more about it and kept playing, and then later that day told his mom about what happened.

She lost her mind. For some reason, he thought she had also been worried about the ball, and he kept telling her he'd been able to get it back after, so it was all good.

When I was 13 I helped the local burnout mow lawns. He was late 20's and hung out with us teenagers from the same block. Got us weed, bought us beer. The 16yo guys I looked up to were friends (?) with him, he'd hang in the backyard fort of the lead 16yo, and he basically ran the local lawn mowing cartel of all us kids. I wanted money and it was easy and fun, hangin' with the boys. We shoveled walks in the winter.

One snowstorm morning he wasn't at the fort where we'd meet so I volunteered to run across the street to his house. Knock. Knock loud. Try the door, he didn't mind if we came in his basement entrance to his parent's house. It's dark, light on in the bathroom. 13yo me saw his first dead body that day; full bathtub with slit wrists and neck.

E: oh, reason for suicide seemed to be that he had a DUI wreck a couple months prior where a young girl (like 7 or 8) didn't die but wouldn't ever be the same... like couldn't walk or brain damage or something. He couldn't handle what he did, I guess.

When I was a kid (18?), one night a friend of my friend called us to come give this drunken girl a ride. They said they were at a party and the guy took some time to babysit her and take her home but he couldn't handle her anymore.

We went and picked her up and were going to take her wherever in the area she wanted to go as a solid for this guy. She got in the car and started berating us and trying to turn up the volume and complaining about the music. She said she had sucked dick and whatever other mess and wasn't going to put up with our shit this evening. She was much more intoxicated than I thought she would be. She requested to be taken to her car and she started giving us directions. She said she was going to sleep it off in the car so her parents wouldn't know. We planned to take her keys and come back later or something. We were honestly blindsided by how ridiculous everything got so quickly.

Turns out her car was parked at a local recycling center or something and when we pulled in there, there was a brand new Cadillac, lights came on car started. She said it was probably her grandpa. We let her out and started driving away so that they could figure it out, we wanted to be done. Grandpa didn't even stop to let her in the car or get her in her own car or anything. He immediately started following us. He tailgated us all the way down the highway back to my friend's house with his brights on. We drove normally but tried to concoct a plan. We pulled up the driveway at my friend's place about 15 minutes later and he stops short a few car lengths into the driveway.

I kind of lost it at that point and walked down the driveway to ask him what the hell he was thinking and he steps out of the car standing behind the driver side door. As I come up to him to give him a piece of my mind he raises his hands and he has a pistol pointed right at me. I guess being young and full of adrenaline I absolutely went off on him yelling what the hell did he think he was doing pulling a gun on this we were just trying to give his granddaughter a ride we didn't even really know her. I mean I got right up in his face. I can't believe I did that in retrospect, I would never do that now. After I yelled at him he dropped his hands and looked confused. Said "What was I supposed to do?" I'll never forget those words.He quickly got in his car and started to turn around. I tried to block his car so I could call the police but as I started to get on the phone he punched it and ran over my foot. Thankfully I moved to just enough to the side that it didn't really do anything. Cops showed up later and the officer stood around for a while talking to us and getting statements. He said that we have to go down to the magistrate downtown to do anything about this.

We went there and the magistrate asked us a bunch of the same questions. He did some paperwork stuff and essentially concluded that the guy who pulled a gun on me had already come by and filed a report that we were threatening him and that the two conflicting statements would cancel each other out - nothing would happen to either of us. Come to find out later on that the man who pulled a gun on me was a retired police chief from the area, very well known, who owned a local car wash. He had a sketchy past and I guess this was just another day in the life of a police officer abusing power.

I look back and think what the hell was that girl doing? Was she actually being taking advantage of? Did the friend of a friend know that would happen so he set us up to take the fall for it? Was he the abuser? Was she just being sloppy and shitty and he didn't want to get in trouble? How in the world did those things cancel each other out especially with no investigation into it. They couldn't have. I'll never forget that. I never talked to that idiot friend of a friend again and I never saw police officers the same either.

I'm, in fact, not a horse. I only pretend to be one on the Internet.

I have scars around and on my genitals. When I was young my mom told me that I had surgery just after I was born. Now as an adult, I think I may have been born with some sort of intersex condition but I am afraid to talk to my parents about it.

I (aurally) witnessed a kindergartener get run over by her school bus. I was on a different bus and our bus drivers were talking over the radio, then there was this ungodly wailing from the other bus. The other bus driver just kept screaming "I killed her, I killed her".

Turns out the little girl barely missed the bus, ran alongside it to catch up, tripped, and fell under the wheels of the bus.

Once we got to high school, students on the killing bus were offered counseling. I, not being on the killing bus, didn't talk to anyone about it until I went to therapy decades later.

Yellow school buses freak me out still, for that and abuse reasons.

I can't own a gun because the call of the void is too strong.

Probably not as interesting, but I was woken up as a kid (teen?) by my mom screaming and running into my room/in my bed. Woke up to see my dad standing in the doorway with a steak knife. She had asked him to go to rehab. That was it. We're good though 🤙🏾

Since I most likely won't out live my wife, and she doesn't want to live without me, we have agreed on a murder/suicide when we are getting up there

Once put one of those plastic wrapped potatoes in my uniform apron to put back in produce at my first retail job (got abandoned in the mac and cheese section). I then completely forgot and took it home. Took it out of my apron and put it on my desk next to my car keys because "I'll remember to take it back". I did not. Lived with me for a week or something when I finally put it in my apron again because I wasn't remembering. I took it to work. I completely forgot about it and never returned it. It made this trip several times. I put it back on my desk because this wasn't working out, surely I'll remember if I see it.

Then I forgot about it for like three months. One day I look over at my desk and it's a shriveled potato with a new potato growing from its own husk...

In essence, potatoes are amazing and horrifying. Just like my short term memory lol.

I stole some bullets from my workplace once.

I was unloading a truck at work one day, many years ago. One of the items on my trailer was a pallet of rifle ammunition. Whoever loaded this trailer on the other side of the country did a shitty job of it; plastic wrap was shredded, several boxes were torn open, the cardboard "do not stack" cone was crushed under the weight of a car engine, among other things. When I managed to exhume this pallet from the trailer, the plastic gave way, spilling dozens of boxes and hundreds of loose bullets all over my trailer and loading dock. While I was cleaning up the mess, I impulsively pocketed a few bullets for myself. Nobody ever asked me about it. I don't even own a gun. But I have a few bullets.

I’ve been sick at home for a few days. I blew my nose into some toilet paper, checked, then tossed it in the toilet. Saw myself in the bathroom mirror and had snot all over my mustache.

Then it hit me. This isn’t the first time I’ve blown my nose with a mustache — it’s just the first time I’ve immediately looked in a mirror afterward.

Oh my god

I had half of my face ripped off by a dog when I was a kid. Skin and flesh was just hanging off of my face and I almost lost my right eye.

Doctors did a great job patching me up and you can't even tell that anything happened unless you know where the super subtle scars are.

After taking a car door to the head during heavy winds, I experienced immediate and recurring night terrors/sleep paralysis for two years. They started out pretty extreme, with me waking up on my stomach with some kind of creature pinning me to the bed. I'd struggle enough to lift my head a few inches, only to find my pillow was filled with distorted, open-mouthed faces stretching out at me from the material.

As time went in the hallucinations gradually waned in extremity, though never becoming anything comfortable. I would open my eyes to see a phosphorescent grid encompassing my walls, or millions of flies on my bedroom ceiling. Once my cat was staring up at them too, and I believed what was happening was real, only to wake up a moment later facing a different direction, and my cat fast asleep at my feet.

Eventually it's as though my soul became heavy or something. I slept on the top floor of a two-story home, with a very old colonial-era basement below it. I would constantly find myself one or two floors directly beneath my bed, all but glued to the ground and trying with all my might to crawl out of the damp, dark cellar toward the stairs, but too sluggish and/or paralyzed to do it. I felt terrified down there in the darkness. Eventually the adrenaline would wake me up safely in my bed.

Throughout the entire ordeal I would somewhat frequently open my eyes to see some sort of ghostly or transparent entity looming over my bed, leaning over or staring down at me. The last night I ever experienced an episode, I woke up to see that very entity, but I realized suddenly that the entity was me. It was me standing there, looking down at myself. I became angry. I felt like these episodes had ruined my life, and made sleeping something I no longer looked forward to. The rage came to a head. I activated every nerve in my body to try to break free of the paralysis. I gritted my teeth as I succeeded, groaning the words "FFFFRUUUUCKK YYRRROOOOUU!!!" as I bolted up from my bed and lunged through my own ghost. Then I never saw it again. In fact, I never had another night terror since. It's been years now. A decade at least.

Okay, so I have a mechanical heart valve. One time, while I was in the basement of my childhood home with one of my brothers, I was close to him as he was playing The Godfather PS2 (I'm pretty sure it was that game). It was pretty quiet, so he somehow heard the ticking of my valve and his mind went to some sort of explosive like a pipe bomb being close by.

The guy who first showed me D&D when I was a kid went on to rape and murder a 90 year old woman who lived down the street during a botched robbery.

I was kidnapped (by a parent) as a kid.

Your body will not let you drown yourself.

How did his wife take it?

By coincidence, I inherited the RAM and CPU from the work computer of a guy who later shot up my workplace. Luckily he was the only one killed in the shooting. I still use the kit from the shooter to run my home server.

When I used to be spiritual I had a very small cult following of 12 people whose extreme believe in my lies actually showed me how frigthening Religion is.

I once billed a man, just to see him cry.

My joints slip out like that's what they were meant to do. My hips will dislocate during sex, it's a not at all fun-for-me party trick

This is probanly way too boring and mundane for this thread, but I can't feel hunger or fullness. (Never had a doctor look at it because it doesn't make my life worse)

My mom when I was a baby asked the doctor how much baby food I should be given after breastfeeding time was over. The doctor said "just give him enough, he will stop". After many jars of food, my mom had to stop because I wouldn't stop.

To this day I can feel my stomach expanding before I will stop. At my university all-you-can-eat cafeteria (back when I was super fit and tracked every calorie) I ate about 10kcal and didn't feel full so I stopped. I also did a 21 day water (and salt+vitamins) fast without that much trouble (but my mouth would still water and I would still have taste cravings)

Fucks up my relationship with food though because I eat when I am bored, just eat whatever is in front of me without realizing it, or if I am busy I will just forget to eat.

As I said, probably not really unsettling or scary, but not a fun fact lol.

I was in a locker room three months ago minding my own business when this oddly looking guy next to me struck up a conversation. He looked old and incredibly skinny, but you could tell his face was younger. Maybe it's a skin condition like Ehlers-Danlos, I thought.

Well, the guy was in his early thirties and said the reason for his condition was that he had been recently freed by a cartel. He had been kidnapped for years, kept without food or proper hygiene, basically working as a slave. And then he showed me a picture of himself from three years ago on his phone. He has the incredible phisique of a Greek god, beautiful face, with a six pack and well developed muscles. And there he was, skinny, thin as a pencil and with loose, aged skin.

He recounted how he had used his smarts to survive. He had been forced to kidnap others, forged friendships with his captors and even made important suggestions to the leaders to create alliances with other cartels. He was damn good at the job making people fall into the trap, schmoosing the right people and getting out of situations. He said he was honestly one of the best they had, according to him.

He went on about how he had been tortured, kept in a cellar, worked tirelessly from dawn til dusk, and then released one day. And then he told me he he still had friends in the cartel to this day.

That's when I found a break 20 minutes in of this guy trauma dumping on me and I noped the fuck out of there with some bullshit excuse. Never in my life have I ever been so scared, sad, sorry and flabbergasted of someone recounting their life story.

Lost one of my testicles when I accidentally got hit during bandy practice. Scrotum turned into the size of a handball before it got better. No surgery or drainage, was told to let it be and it would fix itself.

Had a cup and everything so just got unlucky.

My eye doctor murdered his boss's wife and waited on the couch beside her corpse for him to get home. He got beaten the shit out of before he could kill his boss and the cops arrested him shortly after the beating.