If you haven’t seen my previous plea for help, please look here. I need help DESPERATELY. PLEASE. https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1b5tkkq/help_me_my_ex_is_trying_to_kill_me_and_my_daughter/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
I’m not sure if this is even allowed her. God, this is my afternote and fuck. Everything is happening so fast. This is the most horrific thing I’ve ever seen and I need help. Advice. Anything. Please, someone help me. I don’t know what else to say.
For now, I’ll share something else. It’s been about a month since my last post and I’m still so scared. Reed hasn’t been speaking to me. She’s brought home three notes from her teachers saying that she’s been misbehaving in class and talking about “unsettling” topics in her class. When I asked, she just said, “I told them Mommy ran away.”
I know some people have been asking for a bit of backstory, at least on another place I asked for help. The longest story of my life short, Maggie and I met in high school and she changed after Reed was born. A year after Reed was born, she ran off with her duffel bag packed and just… Vanished.
Truth be told, I never missed her. She was a horrible woman and still is.
I listened to everyone’s comments and reported this to the police, but they didn’t seem to believe me. I showed them the evidence and they said they’d give me references to a restraining order process. That’s it. My daughter and I could be killed in our beds and they’re suggesting a restraining order. As I type this, Reed’s asleep next to me in her unicorn PJs. I’m so proud of her. She’s my angel. And this shit is too much. If I could afford to move, I would. Without hesitation. I can’t own a gun here because of a past Possession charge back when I was 18. I was dumb and had - have - a shitty life.
It’s escalated. I hear banging on my window at night. Whenever I wake up, there’s nothing there. Sometimes I’ll find a broken bottle on the ground, but it’s common in my neighborhood to find litter and bottles laying around. I’m not a man to jump to conclusions, and I think I’m reaching. Please, someone, tell me I’m crazy and all women do this.
….
It’s been an hour since typing this and it’s currently 3 in the morning. God, someone help me. There’s a man outside of my house. His… Insides. His limbs. They’re all wrong. His face is gone. Like someone cut his face off. There’s blood on my house. My windows. On the floor of my room. Like… I did it? It’s not possible. There’s blood on the bed. On my mouth. Oh, fuck, I’m going to throw up. The man outside is probably 60, though it’s hard to tell… He has no face. No face. Oh my god. Oh my god.
Someone help me. I’ve called the police, begging for help. I hear their sirens now. Please, someone, give me advice.
….
Alright, I have to balls to type again. Reed’s at school and I’ve had about 10 more Redbulls than the human body should ever have in the last 24 hours. Ever since that man… Died? Was murdered? I don’t know. The police questioned me and took everything covered in blood away. I’m sleeping in Reed’s room tonight. I need to keep her safe. The police say that the man had been dead not more than 3 hours when I woke up to take a piss. On my way back, I found the blood everywhere. It wasn’t there when I woke up. I don’t turn on any lights because Reed is a light sleeper and it would wake her up. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice the blood on my face.
To describe the scene in more detail, the man was lying face-up, though that’s not a good word for it. His face was missing and his limbs seemed broken, like he’d been run over by three 16-wheelers. His hair was long and would have been white if not for the blood. Apparently, there was a note. I hadn’t seen it in my panic. The police read it to me, hoping to disclose any information that may lead to a conviction, or a confession.
“Fuck you, Will. You keep my baby girl from me. You turn her against me. She thinks that I’m gone forever. I’m never gone, Will. You son of a bitch, I’ll kill everyone in the fucking world and save you for last. I’ll take her back. She’s mine. She belongs to ME, Will. Give her back, or I’ll come for your mother, then your sister, then the world. Finally, I’ll kill you.
See you soon, my honeybee.”
My stomach had lurched at the final line. Honeybee. She called me that when I’d eaten toast at her house for the first time. Out house. Together for a year. Our anniversary. I’d had honey on it. Honey and cream cheese. It was all we had at the time.
Honeybee.
I’m so scared. I feel like crying. Like screaming to the world to run, to flee, to abandon everything and get away. She’s coming.
Should I give myself up? Let her take Reed? Give her Reed? Maybe partial custody? What do I do? Tell me I’m crazy. Tell me I’m making this all up. Everything has to be fake. This is a horrible nightmare and I’ll wake up to us married, her making breakfast. Having a normal 9-5. Reed will love me again. Maggie will love me again.
Help me.