I am currently hiding in a closet of my friend’s house while shaking my ass off as I’m typing this. So, a little backstory: I have been friends with this dude Peter since I was 12. My family knows him very well since he’s been to my parents’ house several times. I didn’t meet his family until 4 years after we started being friends because he said they could be very weird with guests and didn’t want them to meet me. I still remember the day that he decided to invite me to meet his parents because he was tired of hiding my friendship with him. During the entire day they didn’t do anything too creepy but I remember feeling awkward.
Fast forward a few years (today), he invited me to come over to his house so I could meet the rest of his family (cousins, grandparents, etc). It was about 6:48 p.m. when I got to his house. Everyone seemed excited to meet one of Peter’s closest friends. I could sense something wrong. They all looked at me with the weirdest smiles on their faces, like those psycho-looking smiles that make you terrified, you know? Yeah, those smiles. Anyways, everything went on like usual, and that made me feel like I was safe. That was a mistake. Always be ready to have something bad happen when you feel insecure about some event, etc. At dinner time was when everything started to go wrong. They started holding their forks and knifes like they were about to stab someone, gave me weird compliments like “Your neck looks well put together, I wonder what damages a bullet could cause to it”. So I straight up asked:
- What the fuck is this all about? why are you being so fucking weird with me? What’s with these weird ass compliments? Look, maybe I’m going crazy but you’re freaking me out!
His family all responded in a chorus:
- Wrong choice of words, buddy. Now you will be added into our dead body collection! Anyways, let the hunt begin!
Suddenly, his family members stood up with knives in their hands and tried to stab me. My buddy had already ran away, so I had to take matters into my own hands. I run to the kitchen to pick up a kitchen knife and ran upstairs to the second floor of the huge mansion they had bought just about when I first met his parents. They chased me into the second floor’s hallway, excited about killing me. I threw the knife I previously grabbed from the kitchen and sadly missed his uncle’s head. I had no other option but to pick up random objects and throw them at the group of bloodthirsty people. I ended up hitting his grandma’s head, making them all stop to help her. This gave me enough time to make a run for Peter’s bedroom.
I hid in the closet where I am at right now. They started hunting me again, and they were being very creepy, making scary ass noises, throwing stuff around and screaming for me to show myself. I thought about ending it all several times. I can’t take it anymore. I want to jump out of the window and make a run for safety, but I need perfect timing and I’m lacking luck right now, to be honest. I texted Peter and told him to call the cops and he hasn’t responded yet. I am scared. I am afraid. I am lost. I don’t know what to do. What I know is that I need help, and quickly.